<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Katabasis by Anonymous</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24374071">Katabasis</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Chastity Device, Choking, Collars, Conditioning, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Drugged Sex, Drugs, Face-Fucking, Forced Orgasm, Forced Prostitution, Fuck Or Die, Gil Arroyo Whump, Human Trafficking, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, M/M, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Malcolm Bright Whump, Master/Pet, Mutual Non-Con, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Object Insertion, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Pre-Series 1 Finale, Protective Gil Arroyo, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, Verbal Humiliation, Whipping, Whump, there is one (1) point to this story and it is wrecking Malcolm and Gil in every way</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:47:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>55,424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24374071</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"You both must be confused," the suited man says. "That's to be expected. But you're here so I can explain. Listen carefully, hmm?"</p><p>He steps forward. He looks at Gil, smiles, and then grasps a handful of Malcolm's hair and yanks his head back. </p><p>"You are <i>mine</i> now," he says. "Simple as that."</p><p>///</p><p>Endicott has Gil and Malcolm kidnapped by a sex trafficking ring to silence them. Neither have a particularly good time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright, Gil Arroyo/Nicholas Endicott, Gil Arroyo/Original Character(s), Malcolm Bright/Nicholas Endicott, Malcolm Bright/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>129</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I saw a post on tumblr a month ago that said something about Endicott having Gil kidnapped and/or trafficked, so this is 100% not my fault. </p><p>Okay 90% not my fault.</p><p>Please look at the tags, they will be added to as we go. As an overall warning: this is trash. Don't read it if you don't want trash. Thanks, enjoy! This is literally the only chapter without porn and that's a promise.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gil wakes up face down on cold, hard concrete, with his wrists handcuffed behind him, ankles roped together. His muscles scream at him from the strain of the position, and as he groans he realizes there’s tape over his mouth, wrapped tight around his head. Something is around his neck, too, just tight enough to be felt, but he's not sure what.</p><p>He takes a minute, trying to remember what happened before this. A long case finally closed, a serial killer finally behind bars. Drinks to celebrate with his team, being forced up on stage to drunkenly sing karaoke while they laughed, while Malcolm filmed—</p><p>
  <em> Malcolm. </em>
</p><p>Where is Malcolm?</p><p>He rolls over onto his back despite the pain, desperate, and realizes he can't see a thing. He can't tell where he is, or if anyone is there with him.</p><p>Despite himself, he lets out a whimper of frustration, of fear. He writhes, straining against the cuffs he knows he can't break out of, and then, as he curls his body into itself, his bare feet hit something soft. </p><p>He turns, feeling with his toes, and then pokes at it harder.</p><p>It groans, and Gil breathes a sigh of relief. Malcolm. Still alive.</p><p>He can't do anything but nudge him, head still groggy and body still weak in a way that only the lingering effects of a drugging can produce. He prods at Malcolm but Malcolm doesn't make another sound until what feels like an eternity later, moaning and then starting to move around.  </p><p>He lets out a noise to let Malcolm know he's there. Malcolm whines out something muffled and Gil recognizes with a sinking heart that Malcolm's gagged too, as if before it hadn't quite been certain that they were royally fucked. </p><p>Slowly, Malcolm rolls himself over, panting from the effort, and then inches his way forward, curling and uncurling his body until he can push against Gil's chest, getting as close as he can.</p><p>He's shivering, and Gil wants to tell him it's okay, that he'll protect him and they'll get out of this just fine, but then he's almost grateful the tape prevents it, because it would be a lie. He has no idea where they are, or what's happened, or what will happen. He can only hope the others know they're missing by now and will find them in time to prevent lasting damage or worse.</p><p>They remain alone. It's maddeningly silent, save for the occasional movement to try and soothe aching muscles, the grunt of pain and discomfort and <em> fear.</em></p><p>Memories start to come back. Dani and JT had called it a night, but Malcolm had insisted on one more song, getting up on stage to sing and sway his hips that had Gil forgetting anyone else was in the bar at all. He'd winked at Gil, slipped his tongue out between pretty pink lips and known exactly what he was doing, what reaction it would garner.</p><p>They'd kissed, afterwards, their very first. Drunk and unthinking, desperate and perfect, Malcolm had lunged up to meet their lips in the parking lot as they went to hail a taxi and Gil hadn't pulled away, instead pushing Malcolm against the side of his car and closing his eyes against the knowledge that he'd likely regret this in the morning. Pent-up lust and alcohol never mixed well, and he's wanted Malcolm for far too long, and the building tension between him and Malcolm since his return from the FBI, for <em>years, </em>had finally culminated here and now.</p><p>"Come home with me," Malcolm said, looking up at him through his long, dark lashes. “Please.”</p><p>Gil can’t remember ever giving a response. That’s where it goes completely blank. </p><p>He doesn’t understand. They hadn’t been working a case. There had been no ongoing danger, nothing he knew that he needed to keep an eye out for. They were just...taken, from the side of a bar they’d been to a hundred times, that Dani and JT had departed from just twenty minutes before.</p><p>Gil doesn't like to be scared, hates even more to show it, yet there's nothing he can do to stop himself from lapsing into a fit of breathlessness. Almost immediately he hears Malcolm's breathing speed up as well, and he has to take deep, purposeful breaths to calm them both down again, reminding himself that Malcolm is, as always, looking to him for guidance, and Gil had already let him down once. He can’t do it again.</p><p>The lights turn on somewhere close, outside the room they're in, making it just bright enough to see. There's the sound of metal on metal, of a padlock clicking open, and a roll-up storage container door opens to blind them both with hallway fluorescents.</p><p>"Grab the big one," someone says, and it's the only thing Gil hears before suddenly there are hands on him, and Malcolm is crying out as they're both dragged up. Malcolm's thrown over one man's shoulder, and Gil's carried between two others. </p><p>He just <em> doesn't understand</em>. The world is too bright right now, dizzying, and it tilts and rolls as he's pulled along, down a long corridor and then another. Gil can recognize it vaguely as a storage facility, but that doesn't help much. It just leaves him with the knowledge that they could be anywhere in the state, anywhere in the <em> world</em>.</p><p>Finally, they're unceremoniously dropped to the floor. Gil's already foggy head smacks against it, and he moans. </p><p>"Good morning, boys."</p><p>The voice is terrifyingly pleasant. Malcolm squirms against his side. Gil has to really blink hard before his vision clears out enough to see the man standing before them.</p><p>He's dressed in a brown suit, leaning against a gold-plated cane as he smiles down at them. With one hand he gestures, and one of the men who brought them here takes a box cutter out of his pocket and slices away the tape around Gil's mouth. It nicks his scalp, and Gil gasps for air, wincing as the tape is ripped out of his hair and watching as they do the same to Malcolm.</p><p>"K-<em>kid?" </em> </p><p>"Gil—" Malcolm says, "I—"</p><p>"<em>Silence," </em>the suited man says. </p><p>"Whatever you want—" Malcolm starts, and the man reaches into his pocket. Gil flinches, scooting closer, in front of Malcolm to shield Malcolm from whatever it is, but the man simply takes out what looks like a remote.</p><p>And then he points it at them and presses down. </p><p>A pain rips down Gil's body, from his neck down to his toes, and he shrieks. He hears Malcolm let out a cry of his own pain, feels his legs jerk as they hit his own. </p><p>It's over in just a second. Gil's energy is completely drained, and he slumps down, eyes fluttering as he struggles to keep awake. He tilts his head, looking back to Malcolm as the boy pants and recovers, and finally notices the metal collar around his neck. It must be what's around his own, and what caused the shock that had nearly knocked him clean out.</p><p>"I said, be silent," the man says. "It'd do you both well to learn to listen." </p><p>"Wha's…?" Malcolm mumbles, dazed, and the man disregards him.</p><p>"Sit them up."</p><p>The men behind them force them up, setting them beside one another again Malcolm sags against Gil's shoulder, then straightens up a little more. </p><p>"Okay?" Gil whispers, and Malcolm nods.</p><p>"You both must be confused," the suited man says. "That's to be expected. But you're here so I can explain. Listen carefully, hmm?"</p><p>He steps forward. He looks at Gil, smiles, and then grasps a handful of Malcolm's hair and yanks his head back. </p><p>"You are <em> mine </em> now," he says. "Simple as that."</p><p>"Don't you—" Gil growls, cutting off with a curse as he's smacked across the back of the head.</p><p>The man points the remote at only Gil this time, but Gil can't tell if Malcolm is hurting too or if his cry is a reaction to Gil's. When the pain stops he's bent over himself, held up only by hands behind him, spit dripping from his mouth onto the floor, Malcolm desperately calling his name. </p><p>"I don't like to repeat myself," the man says, "so don't make me. There will be no fighting anyone here, no heroic attempts to escape. If there are, you will regret them. If you're good to me, to my men, we can absolutely be good to you. Behave and receive privileges. Do not, and you will receive punishments. Really, like I said, it's very simple." </p><p>"Y-yours," Malcolm says quietly. "Wh—what do you mean?"</p><p>Shit, the kid is still, always, trying to profile. Gil wishes he hadn't said a thing, because in response the man crouches down, bracing himself with a hand halfway down his cane, and grabs Malcolm through his pants with crushing force.</p><p><em> "Mine," </em>he says as Malcolm cries out. </p><p>"Get your <em> fucking </em>hands off him!" Gil shouts, and the man laughs as Malcolm reels back, hitting the floor, trying to scramble away. </p><p>"You—you—" Malcolm's words won't come, and he whimpers as the man steps closer. "Don't touch me!"</p><p>In response, the man grabs him round the throat, lifts him up, and squeezes, until Malcolm can’t breathe, can’t make a sound. Gil jerks against the hands that come to hold him still but they keep him in place, pushing him forward and wrenching his bound arms out straight behind him until he can't hold back a cry.</p><p>“You don’t get to decide who touches you anymore, boy,” the man says. “Neither of you. That ended the moment you arrived here. You are not your own. Your bodies belong to <em> me.</em>”</p><p>Malcolm’s mouth opens and closes, his eyes bulging wide in terror. He struggles, and the man shakes him.</p><p>“Ah ah. You'll breathe when I grant you breath. <em> Relax your body </em> and accept that, or I’ll hold you here until your heart stops.”</p><p>Gil <em> whimpers. </em> Malcolm shudders, gaze landing on him over the man’s shoulder, and then he obediently goes limp.</p><p>“Good boy,” the man says, and keeps him there for just a little longer, until Malcolm's face is flushed red from the pressure, before dropping him. He collapses, coughing and gasping, at the man’s feet.</p><p>“This is where you belong, now,” the man says, digging the end of his cane between Malcolm's shoulder blades. “Bowing to me. You will treat me with the <em> utmost </em> respect. You will refer to me as Master, as all my pets do. You will ask for nothing, and you will take what I give you. You will eat, drink, and piss <em> only </em> when you're given permission. You will speak only when you’re spoken to, and you will do as you’re ordered. If you dare to disobey me or my men, there will be consequences, and I assure you, they won’t be nearly as kind."</p><p>He slams his cane down once, and Malcolm wails.</p><p>“Mal—" Gil tries, and the man turns to backhand him across the face. The hands behind Gil release him, and the man grabs his hair and, though Gil tries to resist, forces his head down until his cheek is pressed against the floor. </p><p>“Speak when you’re spoken to,” the man says again, just as calmly, “or you’ll be disciplined.” </p><p>Gil sneers. “You’re making a mistake. I'm Lieutenant Arroyo with the NYPD! When they find you—"</p><p>"Do you think I'm a joke? That I haven't been doing this long enough to know that they <em> won't?" </em> The man laughs, callously, and then releases him. Gil raises up, sits back, and then is bashed across the face with the man’s cane. </p><p>It tilts his vision, fills his mouth with blood, and sends him sprawling onto the floor. It comes down onto his chest, and then, when he flips over to protect himself, beats against his back until he finally lets out a scream. </p><p>It stops as suddenly as it began. He hears Malcolm let out a sob in the distance.</p><p>The man bends down beside him, cups his chin, and angles it up, swiping blood away with his thumb.</p><p>“I like you,” he says. “You have fire in your eyes. I’ll take pride in just how quickly I can put it out."</p><p>Gil doesn't have the strength to do anything but stare up at him, and it only makes the man's grin wider.</p><p>"I know who you were, Gil Arroyo. I know everything about you. Widowed three years ago, recovering alcoholic, the man who put the notorious Surgeon away for life. And Malcolm Bright, formerly Malcolm Whitly, the son of the Surgeon himself, who likes to stick his pretty little face where it just doesn’t belong. And apparently his tongue...is that right?”</p><p>Gil squeezes his eyes shut. Malcolm whines softly, and mumbles under his breath something Gil can't understand.</p><p>"Lieutenant is only who you <em> used </em>to be. Now? Now this body is mine, and it will be used for pleasure." </p><p>"<em>No," </em>Gil says. </p><p>"You don't have a choice in the matter," the man replies. "Neither of you.”</p><p>"<em>Gil," </em>Malcolm whispers. The terror in his voice aches Gil to the bone. </p><p>The man turns Gil’s head to face Malcolm, and says, “You love that boy?”</p><p>Gil breathes through gritted teeth and doesn’t respond. The man smiles down at him. </p><p>"That's good. That's very good. That’s going to make this easier, and far more fun. I never take two, but my, the donation we received to do so was simply too generous to deny.”</p><p>"<em>Donation?</em>” Malcolm chokes, voice shaky. "You were contracted to take us?”</p><p>"You're a talkative little boy," the man hums. "We'll find another use for that mouth <em> very </em> quick."</p><p>Malcolm doesn't stop. He's scared, and he babbles when he's scared. “Who by? Who—oh my God—Gil, it had to be—”</p><p>The man sets off Malcolm’s collar again, and Malcolm thrashes against the floor and then goes limp, wheezing.</p><p>“You’re not here to think,” the man says. “You’re here to do as you’re told until I decide you are no longer of use, and then you will be dead." </p><p>Malcolm looks up at him, over to Gil, and then down again. He chokes out something incoherent, and then shakes his head and goes quiet. </p><p>"That's right," the man says. "Make peace with it. It'll be easier for you once you do."</p><p>Malcolm doesn't say anything. His hand trembles behind him, and he squeezes his eyes shut. Gil wants to pull him close and promise him everything will be okay, but he's scared to death now that it won't be okay at all.</p><p>He knows exactly the name Malcolm was going to say. Nicholas Endicott, the man in relation to Malcolm’s mother, who’d pinned Malcolm down and assaulted him in his own home as a warning to keep quiet about what they knew, what they were going to find out should they keep digging.</p><p>That’s what this is. A way to ensure they <em>don't.</em></p><p>“You will see our doctor," the man goes on, a bit louder, and Gil hadn’t realized he was gasping for air as if he’d been running. "Both of you. You will be inspected daily for infections, your urine tested, your blood drawn every two weeks. I run a <em> clean </em>facility. You'll shower every day, and of course, after intercourse."</p><p>Malcolm is trying so hard to keep himself together, but at that he sobs. The man looks proud.</p><p>"I know," he coos. "It's such a change. But you'll get used to it, just as the rest of my pets have. You'll adapt, you'll obey, you'll learn. And soon you won't remember you had any other life but this."</p><p>"<em>No," </em>Malcolm hisses, pulling on his cuffs. "No, they'll find you. They'll find us!"</p><p>"But they won't," the man says. "I promise you. I was paid to make certain of it. Had you found us yet? Shut us down? No. You chose a different mission. One that backfired substantially, and one which you will never complete. The only thing left for you two to do is swallow the truth...and perhaps a few other things. Shall we start training that naughty mouth of yours now?"</p><p>He grasps Malcolm's hair and yanks him forward, until his lips are pressed against the seam of the man's pants. </p><p>"No! Stop! Don't you dare!" Gil shouts, and the man laughs. Malcolm doesn't make a sound, just breathes ragged through his nose, but another sharp yank on his hair has him gasping in pain, and Gil echoes it in surprise. Malcolm’s eyes dart over to him, and then he snarls, fighting even as the grip on him tightens.</p><p>“You fuel each other’s unruliness,” he says. He rubs Malcolm's face against himself, and Malcolm grunts, uselessly tugging to get free. “Perhaps a bit of separation to adjust would do you well. What do you think?"</p><p>“Please,” Gil whispers, before he can stop himself. “Please, don’t—don’t hurt him, <em> please</em>." </p><p>"Using your good boy manners is a start," the man says, "but I <em> am </em>going to need you to address me properly."</p><p>Gil squeezes his eyes shut. He hesitates for only a moment, prepared to do anything for Malcolm's sake, but it's a moment too long. The man shoves Malcolm down, stands back up, looks at the others, and orders, "Take the boy to my office. I'd like to see him in better lighting." </p><p>"Gladly," one says, picking Malcolm up to throw him over his shoulder again, and Malcolm shrieks, eyes blown wide in terror.</p><p>"Gil! No! Let go! Stop—no! <em> Gil!</em>"</p><p>"Please don't!" Gil fights to push himself up, and the man hits him with the cane again. This time it cracks across his temple, and Gil crumples. His ears ring, his head pounds, and his eyes start to close even as he wills himself with everything he has to keep them open.</p><p>"He's not yours anymore," the man says, fading just as fast as everything else. "He's mine. Just like you. And I'm going to take good care of you both, don't you worry. Dead boys don't make money, you know."</p><p>He chuckles. "Not for long, anyway."</p><p>Hands tuck under his arms to drag him in the opposite direction as Malcolm, and the man barks out another order Gil can't hear, and then the headache overtakes him, his head lolls to his chest, and he doesn't remember anything else.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>K A T A B A S I S: In Greek mythology, the hero's descent into the depths of the underworld.</b>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note: is porn</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Malcolm is gagged again, because he won't stop yelling. He cries out for Gil, again and again, even when he can't see him anymore, and then is silenced by another strip of tape slapped across his lips by a man walking beside the one carrying him.</p><p>He goes fairly quiet, still, in shock. He's carried down the hall, then into a room at the end. This one holds another desk, file cabinets lined against the wall, and a bed that Malcolm is tossed onto. It doesn’t hurt physically, but the pain of the knowledge of what might happen to him on it makes him groan.</p><p>“You make such <em> pretty </em>noises,” one of them says, sitting beside him, and though he kicks out at the man he misses and only makes him laugh. </p><p>“Feisty! I love fresh meat.” </p><p>“Think he’s the prettiest one we’ve had in a long time,” the other says, setting himself on Malcolm’s other side, stroking Malcolm’s hair out of his face as he glares and sucks air loudly through his nose. “Maybe the prettiest of them all. Look at his eyes...”</p><p>“You’re gonna make us all <em> rich</em>, you know that?” </p><p>“I can’t wait to get my hands on you…”</p><p>“If the boss lets us.”</p><p>“He better let us. Didn’t risk our asses snatching two cops not to fuck at least one of them.”</p><p>Malcolm grunts, jerking his head away as the man keeps touching his cheek, and then squirms as the man’s hands go traveling down his body. They go up under his shirt, pinch at his nipples and rub over his belly, and then the other man starts touching him too, going lower, trailing his thighs and then—</p><p>“Hands off.”</p><p>Both of them immediately obey the order from the suited man in the doorway. The ceiling light flickers on, too bright, and Malcolm winces, turning his head.</p><p>“Leave us.”</p><p>The two men go, closing the door on their way out. Malcolm manages to open his eyes again, and his breathing picks up as the man smiles at him, setting his cane down against the wall, the cane he’d last seen cracking across Gil’s beautiful face.</p><p>
  <em> Gil... </em>
</p><p>“What a pretty image you are, sprawled like that,” the man says. He unbuttons his coat, shrugging it off to hang on the rack by the door, and then loosens his tie. Malcolm whimpers, looking around, but there’s nothing close to him to use as a weapon even if he <em> could </em>reach out. </p><p>This is going to happen. Whatever the man plans to do, and Malcolm fears he knows <em> exactly </em> what, Malcolm is helpless to prevent it.</p><p>Tears choke him, and suddenly he can’t breathe as his nose clogs up. He gags, tossing his head about, and finally gasps in a breath as the man rips the tape off his mouth.</p><p>“Careful there,” he says, touching one finger to Malcolm’s lips, and Malcolm twists the other direction.</p><p>“Please—” he whispers. “Please don’t. Please.”</p><p>The man hums. He sits beside him, grasps Malcolm’s shoulders, and forces him to lay on his back again. </p><p>“You know why you’re here. That’s good. You’re learning already.”</p><p>“<em>Please don’t,” </em> Malcolm says again, even quieter. In his fear, he can’t seem to say anything else. “You—you don’t have to—"</p><p>“Ssh,” the man says. “Call me Master.”</p><p>Malcolm shakes his head. “<em>No. </em> You want—you get off on power, control, I’m not—I’m not going to give it to you.”</p><p>The man laughs, pulling his tie off. “Oh, you know what I get off on, do you? You’re a smart little boy, hmm? Can tell that by just a look?”</p><p>“I’m—I’m a profiler. It’s my job.”</p><p>“Well,” he says, getting closer and closer as Malcolm’s chest heaves. “It may have been. Do you know what your job is now, pet? To be good for your master, and whomever your master lends your body to.”</p><p>He reaches out, sliding his hand between Malcolm’s thighs despite how tightly Malcolm presses them together, and Malcolm swears. </p><p>“<em>Stop,</em>” he says. “Stop—”</p><p>“You sound so beautiful when you beg,” the man says. “You’re going to sound even better screaming like the proper whore I’m going to make you.”</p><p>He pushes his hand up, rubs Malcolm through his pants, and Malcolm struggles, kicking out. “No! Stop—just let me—”</p><p>The man kisses him. It startles Malcolm so much he’s silent for a moment as he feels the man’s tongue trailing over his lips, and then he gasps. The man uses the involuntary parting of Malcolm’s mouth to lick into it, and when Malcolm tries to close it again his hair is grabbed and his head is yanked back, leaving him unable to.</p><p>“That’s right,” the man coos, leaving kisses all over Malcolm’s face and neck, sucking bruises onto his skin. “Be still for me.”</p><p>“Please—”</p><p>“Ssh, ssh.”</p><p>"H—help!"</p><p>“Are you calling for your Gil? I’m afraid he’s not coming.”</p><p>Terrified, Malcolm cries out again, and the man grasps him around the throat again and squeezes. It cuts Malcolm off, until he can no longer make a sound, and even as the man sits up, he doesn’t let go of his neck.</p><p>Malcolm’s mouth opens and closes, desperately trying to drag air into his lungs, and the man smiles down at him.</p><p>“I’m going to release you,” he says, “and the only word that’s going to come from that mouth is <em> Master, </em>or I’m going to do it again. And again, until you obey me. I told you to speak when you’re spoken to. I’ve been so very lenient with you already, but it’s time we get down to it.”</p><p>Malcolm coughs as the pressure eases, gasping. The man’s fingers adjust, pressing into his skin but still allowing him to breathe.</p><p>“<em>Speak</em>, boy.” </p><p>Malcolm doesn’t. He refuses. Even as he’s choked again, and a third time, a fourth. </p><p>“Little whore,” the man laughs, stradling Malcolm’s hips, tracing the rings of bruising starting to form around his throat above the collar as if admiring them. “Don’t think I’ll get tired. My <em> favorite </em> part of new toys is breaking them. My way, or watching my men do it more...<em>intensely. </em> Oh, you have no idea what they’ll do to you, pet. No idea. We have all the time in the world, and so do you.”</p><p>He slaps Malcolm once, then again far harder, splitting his lip. When Malcolm doesn't do anything but glare up at him, the man quirks a brow and says, "<em>My, </em>you have a tolerance for pain, don't you? That's good...but something you'll want me to keep quiet about. There are some truly sick people out there...the moment they know they can do more to you than they should...oh, pet, you'd be in for a world of pain. Unless…" </p><p>He grabs Malcolm's face, digging his nails in. "Unless that's something the pretty little slut enjoys. Is it?" He digs down, drawing blood, forcing Malcolm's mouth open again. "Does the boy like pain? Would the boy enjoy it if his customers abused him?"</p><p>A tear leaks down one side of Malcolm's face, then the other. For once in his life he doesn't know what he can say to stop this. There's nothing this man hasn't likely heard before from his other victims, and though Malcolm wracks his drug-addled brain for anything helpful, it refuses to work, frozen from the intensity of his fear.</p><p>"No? Well then...behave, and it'll be our little secret."</p><p>He gives Malcolm a moment to give him what he wants, and then, when Malcolm still doesn’t submit, he chokes him again.</p><p>“Then I’ll tell them,” he says. “I’ll tell them how much you like being hurt. They’ll choke you out on their cocks, fuck you until you can’t take it anymore and keep going, split this pretty ass of yours in two. But that’s what you want, right? It must be. It has to be. You’d be begging me not to, otherwise, right?”</p><p>Malcolm’s eyes roll, and he’s given one gulp of air to keep him conscious before the pressure returns. </p><p>“I wonder how much pain your Gil can take. Would you like me to find out? Would you like to watch while I do? How good do you think he'll take a cock? You know, I was given every bit of information about you, but not that you were fucking him. Or...was that something new? Did we interrupt your first time?”</p><p>Malcolm’s crying openly now, wordlessly begging for oxygen and mercy, but it’s ignored. His chest aches, his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage, and the man still holds him down. </p><p>He could be home with Gil right now. They could have kissed all night, held each other, made up for the affection he’d been craving all this time.</p><p>Instead they’re here, and he may never see Gil again.</p><p>“How sweet...how absolutely adorable. I think he’ll get <em> quite </em>the laugh from that.”</p><p><em> He. </em> Nicholas Endicott? That bastard. Was he part of this? Did he encourage it? <em>Help</em> them? Or just sell off his enemies to them when they got too close to calling out all the corruption he’d ever been a part of? And his mother...his mother...Ainsley…</p><p>He starts to black out. The hands release him, and he gasps so hard it triggers a coughing fit, retching, <em> “Please—please, stop.” </em></p><p>"Then tell me what I want to hear."</p><p>He breathes quickly, deeply, trying to load up on oxygen. He can’t do that. He can’t say that word. He won’t. He won’t break. </p><p>It must be clear what he’s trying to do. The man waits for him to blow out all of his air and chooses that moment to return the pressure, and stars flash before Malcolm’s eyes, his eyes bulging as he gags and convulses.</p><p>“Give in, pet. It’s so easy. Or do you enjoy this pain, too? My, you’re a kinky little thing. That’s good...that means you’ll be popular.”</p><p>Malcolm shudders violently, eyes fluttering closed. His lips push together as he forms the first letter, unable to think straight enough to resist it any longer, and the grip loosens <em> just </em>enough for him to drag in the tiniest scrap of air.</p><p>“What was that?”</p><p>“<em>Master,” </em>Malcolm rasps, his throat nearly too abused to say anything at all.</p><p>With a grin, the man lets him have another breath and says, “Again.”</p><p>“Mas—ter!”</p><p><em>"Again.</em>”</p><p>Malcolm repeats it. The moment he stops, the man cuts off his breath again, and he can’t take it anymore. Eventually he’s too exhausted to do anything but whisper the title, hoping it’s enough. His head aches horribly from the continuous bouts of strangling, and he can only think of Gil, of how much he wants to go home, of how much he’s afraid neither of them are ever going to see home again.</p><p>At some point he loses consciousness. When he comes back around, the hands around his neck and the pressure of the man on his hips are gone. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side, wetting his lips and coughing softly.</p><p>He’s cold. He wriggles, the ropes and cuffs gone, and then look down at himself and cries out when he finds he’s been stripped naked. </p><p><em> No. </em>This can’t be happening, not really. Not this. Please.</p><p>“Ssh,” the man—the <em> Master, </em> if Malcolm’s ever to live through another day—says, and he sits down on the bed, cupping the back of Malcolm’s head and holding a glass to his lips. “Drink.”</p><p>Malcolm presses them firmly together, trying to push away. The Master yanks his head back and pours the liquid into his mouth anyway, then claps his hand over it to keep him from spitting it out. Malcolm spasms, tastes cheap whiskey and something bitter, something so unpleasant that it would have made him choke even if it hadn’t been forced down his throat, but there's nothing he can do but swallow.</p><p>“Good boy,” the Master purrs, kissing his forehead as he hiccups. “That will help us get to where I’d like us to be.”</p><p>“What—what did you—”</p><p>“Shush now. You should be grateful...it’ll help you enjoy this.”</p><p>“I’m scared,” Malcolm says softly, though he doesn’t know why, doesn't even know he says it until it spills out. “I want to go home.”</p><p>“You’re home with me, pet.” He lays down beside Malcolm, rubbing over his chest. “Don't be scared. I told you...respect us, and you'll be treated just fine."</p><p>"You want—" Malcolm begins, wondering if more profiling will help or make worse the situation, but the man covers his mouth again before he can continue.</p><p>"Silent," he says, and leans to kiss Malcolm's shoulder, then his lips again. "You’re such a <em> pretty </em> boy, you know that? Already my favorite, and I haven’t even had a real taste.”</p><p>He hums, moving closer, pants scratching against Malcolm’s bare skin. “But I will...and you’ll let me, or you’ll never see your Gil again.”</p><p>Malcolm whimpers. In his weakened state, he takes a risk. He mumbles, “P-please. Please, I...I’ll be good."</p><p>"Is that so?"</p><p>"<em>Yes. </em>Just—just don’t...don’t…”</p><p>“Don’t what, pet? Take you away from him?” He sighs, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “I have to teach him <em> somehow </em> that his behavior won’t be tolerated. How else will I train him to be good?”</p><p>“He’ll be good,” Malcolm says, and it makes him feel even more disgusting. “He will. With me. Please.”</p><p>He looks Malcolm up and down, resting a hand over just above his cock and massaging gently, and Malcolm flinches. </p><p>“Those eyes...so beautiful. I just can’t resist them. You’re going to be a <em> hit. </em> I’ll tell you what...show me how good a boy <em> you </em> can be, and I’ll reward you by letting you see him. Hmm? And if he can show me <em> he’s </em>good, I’ll reward him by letting you stay.”</p><p>He runs his hand up Malcolm's chest, rolling one of his nipples between two fingers, and Malcolm whimpers. </p><p>"Just be a good little boy…that's all I ask."</p><p>Malcolm hadn't figured the answer would be anything different. "H-how?" </p><p>"Behave." He leans to suck on the nipple, licking his tongue over it and then kissing Malcolm's neck again. "No biting. No scratching. Let me fill your pretty holes, and be grateful for it."</p><p>Malcolm squirms and whines. "I don't want—"</p><p>"You're a smart enough boy to know that it doesn't matter what you want anymore. I'm not asking, and neither will your customers. You will be fucked, little boy. That's a reality you're going to have to wake up to every morning for the rest of your life. The decision right here and now is only if I need to use violence to train you, or rewards. I can make this unpleasant for you, or you can be good and see your Gil again."</p><p>With wet eyes, Malcolm nods. “Okay. I’ll—yes. Yes. Just…”</p><p>“Ssh, then,” the Master says, biting him, leaving a mark. “Show me with your body, not your words.”</p><p>Malcolm closes his eyes and nods again. He doesn’t want to, he’d rather <em> die, </em>but when the Master straddles his chest, pushing himself up to Malcolm’s mouth, he opens it and lets the man inside. It makes him gag, especially as the Master pushes in more and more, but he doesn’t fight, even as his fingers twitch and he aches to beat his fists against the man’s body until it gets away from him.</p><p>For Gil. For Gil. For Gil. He has to do this for Gil, to stay with Gil. This is nothing compared to being kept from Gil. It's nothing at all. It <em>has</em> to be nothing.</p><p>He sucks obediently until the man pulls out, stroking himself and then rolling a condom on. By now Malcolm’s eyes have started to droop in a slow-approaching exhaustion, and his body is lax against the mattress. He can’t focus anymore...and maybe that’s better for him. </p><p>“That’s right,” the Master murmurs, spreading Malcolm’s legs wide, “relax for me. There’s a good boy.”</p><p>Malcolm blinks once, and again, and then closes his eyes completely. He feels the man’s cold, lubricated fingers sliding into him again and again, burning as they stretch and scissor him, and then eventually he feels the man's cock pressing against his entrance, gasping.</p><p>“Ssh, boy…I’m the most gentle you’ll ever get again. Just think of your Gil…”</p><p>He pushes inside, and Malcolm doesn't even have the strength to scream. He doesn't think of Gil or anything besides the pain, the humiliation. Bile rises in his throat and he can't turn his head to throw up, forced to choke and then swallow it down again. </p><p>The Master kisses him hard, nips at his jaw and ear. "You're going to learn to enjoy this. You'll bounce on cocks like it's your God-given duty and say ‘<em>yes sir, more, please more, harder, faster.’" </em></p><p>"<em>No," </em>Malcolm grits out, and the man covers his mouth.</p><p>"<em>Yes. </em> Look at you, boy...your face, your body...you were made for this. You're <em> perfect. </em> I almost don't want to share you, but <em> hell </em> you feel so good. You're going to make us rich. Best deal I've ever agreed to. Come on. Give me some moans. Let me hear how nice you're going to sound for your customers."</p><p>Malcolm bites his tongue. He tries to stay silent. The Master fucks into him harder, shoving up against his prostate with every thrust and rubbing his cock between them, and he starts to whimper.</p><p>"That's it. Come on...give me some more…you said you'd be good. Right now you sound like someone who never wants to see him again."</p><p>Malcolm whines, head back against the mattress, and finally lets out a long groan.</p><p>"<em>More, </em>pet," the man pants. He reaches down, starts jerking Malcolm off, and Malcolm cries out. </p><p>"You're so <em> wet </em> for me...just a cock hungry little slut, aren't you? You don't have far to go. But we'll still get you there. Never failed before. Come on—louder. The hotter you sound, the faster they'll come, the more they'll want to have you again. Really try for me. Pretend I'm him. How hard do you think he was going to fuck you?"</p><p>Malcolm doesn't mean to think about it, but it's too late. In some sick way, it helps. He closes his eyes and pictures how gentle Gil would have been with him, how perfect their night could have been, how good his cock would have felt inside Malcolm after he'd been desperate for it for so long.</p><p>The man thumbs Malcolm's leaking slit, slides his hand faster and faster, and Malcolm can't help the noises he starts letting out with every heaving breath, muffled <em> mmm'</em>s against the man's palm as he writhes under him. </p><p>
  <em> Gil, oh fuck, Gil... </em>
</p><p>The man releases his mouth, and Malcolm is <em> ashamed </em>by how he sounds, unable to stop it as he closes in on his peak.</p><p>"Stay on the edge," the Master orders, slowing his strokes but not his pace of thrusts. "Stay right there. Feel how much you want to come. You want to so badly, don't you, boy? I'm fucking you so good and hard, aren't I?"</p><p>Malcolm can't think, can hardly obey in his desperation. He needs to—but he doesn't <em> want </em>to—</p><p>He's not here. He's home, with Gil. </p><p>
  <em> Harder, Gil, please... </em>
</p><p>The Master pounds into him, keeps telling him to <em>wait longer</em> as the pressure builds and builds, and finally he's too tired and overworked to resist the pleasure anymore. It takes him over until he's squirming and bucking his hips uncontrollably and helplessly babbling, <em> "Pleasepleaseplease—" </em>as he fights his hardest not to release, knowing damn well that who's above him isn't Gil and still shamefully on the brink.</p><p>"I know. I know how good it feels. Just need you to beg for it, and I'll let you let it out. Come on—fuck, you feel perfect—beg me."</p><p>Malcolm will tell himself later that it was completely from the fear of being kept from Gil, the drugs in his system, that he was still successfully pretending it was Gil and <em>that's</em> why he obeyed, but he in the moment can't hide the pleasure and <em>need</em> from his high-pitched voice as he wails, "Master, <em>please</em>!"</p><p>"That's right boy...done so fucking good for me. Alright—fuck—come hard on your Master's cock, pet. Let me feel and hear you. <em>Come, boy.</em>"</p><p>Almost immediately Malcolm does, shouting much too loudly as he spurts stripe after stripe of white over the man's hand and his own chest and stomach. </p><p>"That's more like it—fuck—such—a <em> good </em>little whore—" The Master thrusts twice more and comes, shuddering over him. Malcolm trembles, barely conscious, as the man recovers then pulls out.</p><p>Not Gil. That isn't Gil, was never Gil.</p><p>But he knows he knew that, even when he was trying to ignore it. </p><p>He lays there, stunned, and catches his breath while never wanting to breathe again.</p><p>"You'll learn to be louder," the Master pants, "whether it feels good for you or not. And you're going to learn to control yourself for longer, as long as they want you to. You won't come unless they give you permission. Sometimes you won't come at all, and you'll be okay with that. Your body doesn't belong to you anymore."</p><p>The Master pushes his come-coated fingers into Malcolm's slack mouth with an order of, <em> "Clean me off," </em>and Malcolm's grip on reality has faded far too much to do anything but obey. </p><p>It doesn't matter anymore. He's not sure anything does. He just wants...</p><p>"Good boy," the Master purrs, stroking through his sweat-soaked hair as he trembles and gasps. "Sleep now. You deserve it."</p><p>"Gil…" Malcolm mumbles, and then he slips further, and down, until there's only darkness. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note: is more porn, this time ft. Gil</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gil’s screams echo off the walls. </p><p>His banging on the metal sheet door makes his head hurt worse but it doesn’t make him stop. He screams and he hits and eventually, he slumps to his knees, leaning over with his forehead against the floor, panting hard.</p><p>He’s <em> useless. </em> Fucking useless, <em> helpless, </em>to do anything at all to protect Malcolm. He shakes, imagining all the horrific things that could be happening to him until it makes him throw up, and then finally relieves himself in the corner before resigning to sitting numbly in the middle of the room.</p><p>On either side of him is a cot, complete with a scratchy blanket and pillow. He only knows because he’s felt around the perimeter as many times as he needed to to memorize it, to search for anything he could use to escape, to find <em> nothing. </em> It’s a smaller room than he’d thought in the beginning, one way in and out, and it’s locked tight from the outside. </p><p>There’s a bandage around his head, a small tape closure at his temple where the cane had split the skin, and he suspects he already visited whatever doctor the suited man had mentioned. His hair had been wet when he awoke, his skin clean and his beard trimmed. His limbs had been freed...and his clothes removed, replaced with a clean pair of thin underwear but <em> nothing </em>else.</p><p>He’s cold, and he's afraid, but he reminds himself that he needs to stay steady for Malcolm. Always for Malcolm. <em> Anything </em>for Malcolm. He can only wait for the door to be opened, so he does. </p><p>He waits, and waits, until his anxiety spins him out in the darkness, leaves him gasping and weeping into his hands and completely convinced Malcolm is gone forever, that he’ll never see him again.</p><p>Then, the lights in the hallway turn on. The room illuminates, just barely, just enough for him to see, and he stands up, getting closer to the door. </p><p>He’s prepared, <em> more </em>than prepared, to beat his way through whoever’s outside with only his fists until he can get his hands on a weapon. He clenches his hands, sinks himself into the shadows of the corner to wait, and then collapses with a shriek as his collar activates.</p><p>The door rolls open, and Gil can’t get to his feet fast enough, even as the pain stops. He’s left groaning, out of breath, as he slowly looks up to find that damned cane coming to rest before him. </p><p>“Sit up.”</p><p>Gil spits, and rolls his body up to do so. Before he can raise his head again, Malcolm is dumped into his lap. Gil cries out in despair, clutching him close and turning to shield him. Malcolm's been stripped down to a pair of underwear, too, bruised and clean-shaven with damp hair, and Gil kisses his forehead, tries to wake him to no avail.</p><p>"What did you—"</p><p>“He'll come to," the man says. “Do you really think I'd break my newest and <em> prettiest </em>toy so soon? I've hardly played with him at all…"</p><p>Gil can’t stop himself from swearing, angry enough to lunge to his feet and attack, but he can't do that. He has to hold Malcolm, to never let anyone touch or <em> look </em>at him again.</p><p>"I'd like you to think very carefully before you choose speak again. Know that I can take him away. He assured me you could behave...that you'd be better with him than without. He was so good for me...so I’m rewarding him. If you disobey once, <em>just once, </em>you will be placed apart. You will <em>never </em>see him again. But if you’re good, you can remain together. Which would you prefer?”</p><p>Gil grimaces. Meekly, he says, “Let him stay.”</p><p>The man cups behind his ear and tilts forward, and Gil grits his teeth.</p><p>“Tell me what I want to hear.”</p><p>“M—" He chokes, swallows, and somehow, at last, forces out, "Master." </p><p>The Master smiles. He pets Gil's hair, slides his hand down to his cheek, then under his chin.</p><p>"That's a <em> very </em>good boy," he says, and then pushes his thumb between Gil's lips, pressing against his tongue. "Suck on that for me, won't you, pet?"</p><p>Gil holds Malcolm tighter, and obeys. The man adds a second finger, and a third, and thrusts them gently in and out as Gil grimaces.</p><p>"Just as good a mouth as any," he says. "But I do like to test my products before selling. You're older than the rest of my stock...so I'm really going to need a good talent to advertise you with.”</p><p>He pulls his hand away and unzips his pants, taking himself out, and Gil flinches back.</p><p>"Take me," the Master commands. </p><p>Gil can't <em> do </em> that. Not that. "Please, <em> no</em>—" </p><p>"Then I'll take him."</p><p>Gil doesn't know in which context the threat is, but he doesn't want either. He shakes his head, dipping it low, and begs again, <em> "Please.</em>"</p><p><em> "Take me, </em>boy."</p><p>For Malcolm, Gil does. </p><p>Tentatively, he leans forward. He touches his tongue to the head, experimentally, and then gives it a soft lick. The Master sighs impatiently, and after another groan of despair and frustration, Gil finally takes the cock into his mouth.</p><p>It's not his first time, though it's been years since he and Jackie had occasionally found a third partner for the night. He's disgusted, ashamed, but really rather confident in his motions, making it as good as he can to keep the man pleased enough to leave Malcolm with him. </p><p>Malcolm remains motionless in his arms as the Master fucks forward, and Gil is grateful for it. He doesn't want the kid seeing him like this, seeing him <em> submit </em> like this, even if it's for Malcolm's sake. </p><p>"More," the Master demands through gritted teeth. "Use your tongue. You're old enough to have had experience, so <em> show me it." </em></p><p>Gil remembers the last time he'd felt this awful. Two years ago, drunken and alone on his kitchen floor, sobbing over Jackie and ready to down a bottle of sleeping pills that never did anything to help him. It had been a foreign feeling up until her death. He'd been happy.</p><p>But he'd stayed alive for Malcolm. He'd worked through it for Malcolm. He'd gone to rehab and recovered, all for Malcolm. His Malcolm. His precious, beautiful Bright. He'd gotten through it by imagining a life with him, imagining being happy again, even if he believed back then that he could never have that.</p><p>He loves Malcolm. Maybe he never realized just how much until they were kissing, but for God's sake, it's overwhelming. He'd do anything for the boy. Even this.</p><p>He runs his thumb against Malcolm's soft skin, soothing himself. </p><p>They're going to get out of this. This isn't going to break him, nor Malcolm. Dani and JT and the rest of them only need time. Gil has to do what he can to provide that time, and keep them both alive.</p><p>The Master grabs his hair, forces him forward until his nose is mashed against the man's groin and he’s choking, yet he doesn’t fight, not even when his lungs start to burn, drool dripping down his chin and neck as he repeatedly gags and hiccups around the man's length. </p><p>For Malcolm. For Malcolm. For Malcolm. He has to do this, to behave, to shut his feelings down, <em> for Malcolm. </em></p><p>"That's it…oh, you look so fuckin' nice choking on me…that's it, boy…swallow me down, just like that."</p><p>Gil grunts. He tries so hard, but his hand finally instinctively raises up to try and push away the intrusion preventing him from getting air as every nerve in his body screams for it.</p><p>The Master slaps it away. He holds Gil's hair tighter. "Hands down, slut. You don't touch your customers and you <em> don't </em> touch me. Hold your breath and <em> wait. </em> Would you stop for air with the boy? No, you'd choke his pretty prick down and <em> like </em>it."</p><p>Gil grabs onto Malcolm, clutching at him desperately as his chest heaves and tears run down his face, as the man thrusts faster. His movements are making Gil rub against Malcolm and, hidden underneath him, Gil feels himself hard and throbbing, betrayed by the stimulation and friction.</p><p>In a moment of weakness, of barely conscious thoughtlessness, he thrusts upwards, but doesn't have any time to comprehend the action before The Master finally shoots hot and thick down Gil’s throat. Gil’s limbs jerk as the man holds him there until he swallows it all with the last of his strength, on the very verge of unconsciousness, and then the Master pulls out and Gil takes in a desperate gulp of air that feels as if it brings life back into him, slumping over Malcolm. </p><p>He coughs, spitting as he gasps, and only when Malcolm makes a soft noise in his sleep does he realize just how tightly he's been holding onto him, more than enough to leave marks. It takes a few moments for him to relax his grip, his fingers shaking as he reaches up to swipe the back of his hand across swollen, bruised lips. </p><p>"<em>Very </em> good, slut," the Master praises as he finishes tucking himself away. “Nearly as good as him.”</p><p>The final confirmation that Malcolm was assaulted hurts more than that did, more than anything anyone here could ever do to Gil. He doesn't realize he's crying until tears start dripping down onto Malcolm's face, but he can't stop it. He doesn’t even try. Mercifully, it causes him to soften again. </p><p>“You're worth something yet. You both still need practice and training...but we'll get you there. Don’t you worry.”</p><p>The Master grabs Gil's hair and pulls his head up again. </p><p>"Thank me," he says. "Thank me for giving you my cock." </p><p>Gil doesn't. He pants and glares even through the tears blurring his sight, and the Master tsks.</p><p>"Thank me, or he's gone."</p><p>
  <em> For Malcolm. </em>
</p><p>Gil trembles, bites his tongue, and then forces out, "Th-thank...you, M-Master."</p><p>The Master smiles. He slides his hand down to cup Gil's chin and strokes under it. </p><p>"You <em> are </em>a good boy when he's around," he says. "He was right. I won't need to hurt you. Only take him away. Keep that in mind, yes?" </p><p>"Y-y-yes, Master," Gil says. </p><p>The Master releases him. He steps back and hums. </p><p>"Kiss him," he orders. "Let me see how grateful you are for him." </p><p>Gil is startled. He had expected to be abused, not to have to abuse Malcolm. It reminds him of the way he rocked up, even just once, against his boy's limp body, and nausea nearly overwhelms him. </p><p>"Come on...I know you want to. Don't think I didn't see you squirming."</p><p>He hadn't known what he was doing. Lack of oxygen was clouding his judgement. Gil hadn't wanted to come. It had been his body reacting, not his mind deciding. He knows that, and yet he still nearly suffocates in the shame.</p><p>"Oh, you both look so adorable when you hurt. Don't worry...it's only natural. And, well...there's never been a boy I couldn't make come. You can ask him when he wakes up."</p><p>Gil flinches. A strangled noise escapes his mouth, and he shakes his head.</p><p>“How many times do I need to threaten you? You're <em> not </em> being good..."</p><p>Gil looks down at Malcolm. He's unconscious...he won't know. It'll be like it never happened at all.</p><p>He'll never know of either violation.</p><p>Carefully, eyes closed, Gil leans down and presses a gentle kiss to Malcolm's parted lips. In a flash he’s transported back to the parking lot, to Malcolm’s body flush against his own, his cheek soft against Gil’s palm, Gil's only concern in the entire world being if he wanted to finally take the kid to bed or not. </p><p>It shouldn’t be like this. They should have gone home, together or apart. Woken up in their own beds the next morning, or woken up together with their limbs tangled.</p><p>Not here. They should never have woken up here. </p><p>He grimaces, pulling away quickly, and the Master fists his hair again and pushes him down.</p><p><em> "Kiss </em>him," he orders, forcing their mouths to meet again, and Gil squeezes his eyes shut, purses his lips against Malcolm's in a half-assed attempt to please the man.</p><p>It doesn't work. The Master pushes harder. "Kiss him <em>right,</em> whore, or I'll make you fuck his mouth instead! Is that what you want?"</p><p>Helplessly, Gil sobs. He kisses Malcolm hard, cupping his cheek and slipping his tongue into his mouth. Malcolm remains still, breathing out of his nose instead, and the air tickles cold across the tears on Gil's face. </p><p>He feels cold. He feels dead. Gil can't breathe.</p><p>"Better. You act like you've never done it before," the Master snorts, "but my men told me that certainly isn’t the truth. Was that really your first? Right before you were taken? That’s <em> heartbreaking</em>.”</p><p>Gil whimpers, still being as soft as he can, and then pulls back to gulp for air, daring to look up at him. "Please—my God, <em>please</em> <em>stop.</em>"</p><p>"Fuck, you beg so pretty." The Master reaches down, gently petting through Gil’s hair, tugging the strands just a bit too hard with every stroke. “That’s enough for now, I suppose. You did very good, boy. You know, it's <em> beautiful </em> that you have eyes for each other. I have <em> so </em>many plans for you. But not yet. Not just yet. What would be the fun if he's not awake for it?"</p><p>Gil can't handle the possibilities that flash through his head. He gags, digging his teeth down into his lip. If it wasn’t Malcolm on the line for his disobedience, if it was only Gil, he would fight this until his dying breath, he would jump up and rip the man's throat out with all the anger and fury coiling his body tight.</p><p>But it <em> is </em>Malcolm, and Gil can do nothing.</p><p>"They'll find…" he mumbles, but it's to himself. It's to himself, and he knows it may be a flat-out lie.</p><p>“They <em> won’t,</em>” the Master says, tilting Gil's head up, and Gil avoids eye contact in his fear and shame. “I know it’ll take a while to come to terms with that, and that’s alright. But the things that will happen to you here...well. I think eventually you’ll be grateful they'll never know.”</p><p>He slides his thumb over Gil’s bottom lip, his beard, and says, “Dirty boy. Spilled some of me down your face.” He pushes it into Gil’s mouth, and Gil heaves as he tastes the man again. </p><p>“That’s right. You won’t waste what you’re given. Not a drop.”</p><p>He smears spit over Gil’s lips and then finally steps away, and Gil slumps over Malcolm, trembling and violated and spent.</p><p>“Next time I’m going to spread your legs and take you right. But for now, I need you to keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t choke on his own vomit. He's precious to me, now.” He sniffs, makes a face, and steps on Gil’s foot.</p><p>"There's a bathroom down the hall," he says. "If either of you need to use it, you knock on the door. One of my men will let you out and lead you down to it. Or they <em> won't, </em> and you'll hold it in until they do. You're not an animal. Act like one again and I'll beat you into the floor and make you clean it up with your tongue. Is that understood?"</p><p>Gil nods. The pressure on his foot increases, and he says, "Ye—y—yes, Mm—Master."</p><p>"That's a good boy. There's hope for you yet." He turns, giving an order for one of the men to clean the corner before he leaves. Gil watches as the man does, sickened by the overpowering stench of bleach, and then turns his back to them as they're leered at. </p><p>"Don't be shy, officer," one of them purrs, grabbing onto the door and pulling it halfway down. "Get used to getting looked at. It's all you're good for, now."</p><p>The door shuts and locks. Footsteps retreat down the hall, and Gil somehow manages to wait until they're gone before throwing up everything he'd been forced to take and then starting to sob, crawling away from the mess and leaning against the wall in the corner, hugging Malcolm to his chest.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he whispers, brushing Malcolm's hair out of his face, staring down at eyes that won't open and lips Gil was forced to abuse. "Malcolm, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry…"</p><p>Malcolm breathes steady, peaceful and unaware of the horrors of this life they've been thrown into, and Gil holds him close, trying to take solace in the fact that they're together.</p><p>For however long it lasts. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A much more thorough Gil wrecking 😌</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's a long time before Malcolm stirs. He groans first, then starts to writhe, and Gil holds him steady, lifts him up to sit and cups his cheeks, the blanket he'd taken from one of the cots sliding off Malcolm's shoulders.</p><p>"Wake up," he says. "It's me, Bright. It's just me."</p><p>He can't quite see Malcolm's face despite how close he is, but he can tell when Malcolm wakes. He tenses even more, a panicked little gasp escaping his mouth.</p><p>"It's me," Gil says again, to be sure Malcolm knows.</p><p>"<em>Gil,"</em> he whimpers, wrapping his arms around Gil and weeping softly into his neck. "Oh God...Gil...I thought...I thought they...thought I'd never s-see you again, I…" </p><p>Gil doesn't want to tell him what he'd done to keep him, so he just replies, "I'm here."</p><p>Malcolm keeps crying because it doesn't matter. Gil cries too because he knows. </p><p>Eventually they're quiet again. Malcolm sits in his lap, resting against him in exhaustion, and Gil leans against the wall, blanket wrapped around both of them.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Malcolm finally says.</p><p>"There's nothing for you to be sorry about," Gil says, running his hands to soothe up and down Malcolm's back.</p><p>"Endicott warned me. I didn't listen. We kept going, I—"</p><p>"That isn't on you, Bright. No one could have known this would happen. No one did."</p><p>"He paid them...to take us. Corrupt fucking bastard. Might run it, or use it...what if he—"</p><p>"Please," Gil says. He can't take, on top of everything, the idea of Endicott hurting them too. </p><p>"He hurt me." Malcolm's voice is softer now, more in pain, and Gil flinches, knowing who he's talking about, <em> what </em>he's talking about. "He—he—" </p><p>Gil doesn't want to say <em> me too</em>. He doesn't want to say <em> so did I</em>. It wouldn't do either of them any good. So instead he just kisses Malcolm's head and murmurs, "I'm so sorry, Malcolm…I don't…"</p><p>"They have to find us. They won't let me <em>talk,</em> and if I dont—I can't—"</p><p>Gil holds him a little tighter. "We're going to get out of this, okay? I promise."</p><p>"Yeah..." Malcolm doesn't sound like he believes him. Gil isn't sure he believes it either. "I'm so tired, Gil…" </p><p>Slowly, Gil lifts them both up, and even in the darkness he manages to carry Malcolm to a cot and lay him down.</p><p>"You should sleep," he says, and Malcolm's hand darts out, grabbing onto Gil's. </p><p>"Don't," he whispers. "Please, I need—I need you. Please."</p><p>"What do you want, Malcolm?"</p><p>"L-lay with me. Please. <em> Please </em> hold me." </p><p>Gil hesitates for a second before nodding. "Okay." </p><p>Malcolm moves over, and Gil fits himself down beside him. The cot creaks, just big enough and sturdy enough to hold them both. Malcolm turns towards him, burying his face in Gil's chest as Gil pulls the blanket over them.</p><p>"I'm scared," Malcolm says once they've settled.</p><p>Gil doesn't reply. He, once again, doesn't want to agree. He wraps his arms around Malcolm and brings him as close as he can, shushing him as he cries until it's silent again.</p><p>"You kissed me back," Malcolm mumbles after a while, barely awake now. "Would you'a...come to my place?"</p><p>Gil strokes Malcolm's hair. "We were so drunk…"</p><p>"That's why...I can't remember your face. What you were thinking. Just...tell me...if you wanted to. Please. Please. I...I need to know."</p><p>Gil closes his eyes. What he wouldn't give to go back and do that night over. Maybe they could have left the bar earlier, maybe they could have reached a break in Endicott's case the next day. Maybe they could have avoided this all.</p><p>Still, he and Malcolm would have had one last night of freedom together.</p><p>"Gil…?" He sounds so much like he thinks Gil's answer could ever be anything but:</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>Malcolm sighs, his tension easing a bit. He kisses the skin closest to his mouth, and Gil shivers.</p><p>"I...I love you, Gil," Malcolm whispers. "I always have."</p><p>Gil kisses his forehead, letting his lips linger. He doesn't think Malcolm will ever want to actually kiss him again, after he knows he'd been forced to while asleep. And he worries things will only get worse.</p><p>"I love you, too, Malcolm."</p><p>Malcolm smiles weakly despite it all. "Yeah?"</p><p>"Yeah, kid."</p><p>"I thought...maybe...I...um...hmm...mmm."</p><p>Gil realizes after a long silence that the boy's fallen asleep, and he breathes out, kissing over his face again until he's soaked them both in tears and can't cry anymore.</p><p>Gil fights his exhaustion. He knows he shouldn't. Every noise from the hall terrifies him, and he has to stay awake for Malcolm, and…</p><p>Then he's asleep too, lulled into it by Malcolm's warmth and steady breaths, providing him a sense of safety and security that neither of them actually have.</p><p>He wakes to the room opening, and he doesn't have more than a moment to try and reorient himself before the collar sends a shock through him, a hand claps over his mouth, and the prick of a needle sinking into his neck makes him cry out. </p><p>Malcolm shrieks as he's pulled away from Gil's side, as one of them throws him down on the other bed and immediately covers his body with their own. "Stop! No! No no no! <em> Gil!</em>" </p><p>Gil's never hurt more than as he opens his mouth and realizes he can't form a response, can't save his boy, can't do one single thing. Malcolm's words are muffled as the man gags him with a hand, and he says, "You guys go on ahead. I got some words for the boy...<em>just </em> the boy."</p><p>Gil's dragged away, hearing Malcolm's wailing all the way down the hall until he's too far, and he sobs.</p><p>The drug doesn't knock him out completely. It alters his state of consciousness, blurs his vision and drives all the energy from his body, but his eyes stay open, his mind just barely able to register what's going on around him. </p><p>He's brought to another room, tossed on another bed, and left alone. His limbs refuse to cooperate. The softness of this mattress compared to the last lures him to fall asleep.</p><p>Then the door opens again and the Master approaches him, always smiling. Gil grunts, rolling over onto his side to uselessly attempt to protect himself from what he knows is next.</p><p>It doesn't stop the man from touching him, from pushing him back onto his back and running his hands over Gil's chest, his stomach, rubbing him through the thin fabric and then slipping it off of him entirely.</p><p>"<em>Don't," </em> Gil pleads, mouth full of cotton, and the Master kisses him.</p><p>"Good boys take the cocks they're given in <em> earnest," </em> the Master says. "I'll let the two of you see how it's done soon, see what will be expected of you. I'm being paid to train you <em> well. </em> But first…I've been thinking about you for quite a while...so fit for your age."</p><p>He glides his hands down Gil's hips to his thighs, then grabs for a bottle of lubricant beside the bed and squirts it over his fingers, grasping Gil's member with one hand and reaching behind him with the other to push a finger into him. Gil's not sure which violation it is that makes tears start running down his face. </p><p>"Let's get you opened up for me…" the man murmurs, adding a second and crooking them just right. Gil whines, bucking up, and the Master chuckles. </p><p>"I have to say, I didn't expect you to be this responsive," he says. "You know, as the man ages, it becomes more difficult for some...but your body still seems to work just fine. Or perhaps I'm just that good. I<em> do</em> have experience. That's good. Very good. Fill out for your Master, pet."</p><p>As much as he fights it, with a constant pressure and massage against his prostate, Gil doesn't take very long to become erect in the man's hand. He squirms, writhing on the mattress, and the Master kisses his neck, leaving bite marks and bruises.</p><p>"You'll both need to learn that sex is no longer about <em> you. </em> It's about the pleasure of who's fucking you. So you'll make it good for them. You'll beg and moan for more. And unlike the boy, I think you'll get to be on top more often than not. Some people just like that. So you'll fuck them hard, and you'll fuck them good. And you won't chase your own orgasm, but theirs. Understood? The moment I get a complaint that you came before them, you will be punished <em> severely. </em>"</p><p>Gil groans, hips twitching. He tries to push the man's hand away, but he can't figure out how to make himself move.</p><p>"You're not to come," the Master says. "Keep it in. This is practice. Show me you can do it. I'd hate to find you're useless after all this…"</p><p>Gil's chest heaves as the Master kisses down it. He feels himself getting closer to the edge he doesn't want. He looks down at himself and is horrified to find he's slicking the man's hand with precome, and then slams his head back.</p><p>"I know the drug's making it difficult...but if you come without permission, I'm going to bring the boy in here and fuck him in front of you."</p><p>Gil kicks out, his toes curling, panting and gasping for air as the pressure inside him remains relentless. </p><p>"Doing good," the Master murmurs, sucking on one of his nipples before at last releasing him, tearing open a condom and then, when he's ready, spreading Gil's legs. "Let's see just how far your control can go."</p><p>"No—no, <em> don't—" </em></p><p>Gil screams as the man pushes inside of him, scratching and clawing at him until the Master pins his wrists down, bottoming out with a thrust.</p><p>Whether from the drug or the shock or a mix of both, Gil finds it too easy to shut down. He feels every movement, every thrust of the Master's cock into him, but emotionally he goes numb. He stares up past the man, at the too bright lights above until they leave imprints on his retinas even when he closes his eyes. </p><p>"No," the Master growls, low and animalistic, grabbing Gil's throat. "Look at me."</p><p>Hardly able to breathe, Gil does. He sees a man overcome with power, perfectly capable of snapping his neck, <em> Malcolm's </em>neck. He knows this is what Malcolm saw, too, and the guilt of letting his boy be hurt makes it easier for him to give in, knowing he deserves it.</p><p>The Master forces himself deep with every thrust. "The boy sounded so pretty...let me hear you. Moan for me." </p><p>Gil clenches his fists. Though each movement is forcing air from his lungs in little stifled grunts, he doesn't allow anything else out.</p><p>"You're on track to waking up alone."</p><p>"No," Gil gasps, feet fighting to find purchase against the sheets. "Please—"</p><p>"Then <em> moan.</em>"</p><p>Gil does, loud and long and <em> scared</em>. The Master praises him, kisses him, and demands he do it again.</p><p>Gil is disgusted by the sounds he starts making, thinking only of Malcolm, desperate to keep him any way he can, no matter the cost to himself. They're completely forced at first, and then the man starts stroking him again, sucking and biting at his neck, changing positions until he's ramming right into his prostate, and they're a little less so. </p><p>"Not yet, boy," the Master says. "I know you're getting close, but not yet."</p><p>He keeps moving and twisting his hand, though, faster, and Gil's hardly able to think, rocking up, chasing pleasure he doesn't even want. He can't remember the last time he came—knows it had been thinking of <em> Malcolm </em>and the reason he'd avoided touching himself since—and he hasn't had sex in years, all no doubt fueling his body's betrayal. </p><p>The man thumbs his slit, rubs over it, and Gil closes his eyes and tries to pretend it's Malcolm, tries to imagine he's anywhere but here. </p><p>They're Malcolm's hands. Soft and talented and fuck, those <em> fingers</em>, long and nimble, feel so good around him. </p><p>"Are you thinking about him?" the Master asks, snickering. "I felt you shiver. Oh, that's adorable. He thought about you, too. I fucked him good, just like this...I bet you're wondering how he felt."</p><p>Gil's going to fix Malcolm dinner, kiss him over glasses of Malcolm's favorite expensive liquor, make love to him in those restraints, shower him off and cuddle him to sleep. </p><p>"He was <em> delicious. </em>Would you like me to give you a taste? It'll be good to think about when you're with customers, because you'll be punished if I hear you can't get it up, too. I know that may be difficult for you, sometimes, so you'll have to think about pounding into that sweet, tight little hole...his ass squeezing perfectly around this nice thick cock of yours…or would you prefer his mouth? Warm and wet, swallowing you down…"</p><p>Gil can't help but moan, leaking more, his cock covered with it and gleaming wet in the light. Oh, <em> Malcolm... </em></p><p>"Think about it...keep thinking…"</p><p>Gil doesn't <em> want </em>to, but he's unable to prevent it, thinking of Malcolm's beautiful mouth around him like a disgusting pervert, rocking up with a gasp as the man squeezes the base of his cock, grinning. </p><p>"<em>Hold it. </em>Control yourself. Be a big boy. Don't make me hurt him."</p><p>Gil whines, squeezing his eyes shut, as the man fondles his balls and jerks him again. It hurts how close he is, fighting to stay back from the edge, teetering on it as the man does everything he can to push him over, pounding into him mercilessly. </p><p>"That's it—so wet for me—so fucking close—you want to explode on my cock just like he did, don't you? You want to. Don't, boy. Not yet. Be good."</p><p>Gil cries out. Maybe if he wasn't sedated he could control his own body better, maybe not, but the heat has built to an unbearable level in his belly, and the man strokes him <em> faster, </em>and he's going to come no matter how hard he's trying not to. </p><p>Malcolm, Christ, Malcolm—</p><p>Then it's over. The man shoves into him and comes, his hand finally stilling on Gil's cock, his other finding Gil's throat and squeezing harder and harder until Gil feels like both his lungs and his head will burst.</p><p>"<em>Good boy,</em>" the Master purrs, releasing him. Gil gasps and coughs for air, retching as the man pulls out of him, and is ashamed to rut up against nothing...which is better than against Malcolm.</p><p>"So needy. I suppose you earned a reward, didn't you? Especially since I didn't let you before…"</p><p>He starts jerking Gil off again, and Gil is weak, on the edge too quickly. He doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to come. <em> Don’t come. Don't— </em></p><p>"Nice and loud for me now," the Master says. Gil has never tried harder for anything in his life than he does now to hold it back, but there's nothing he can do.</p><p>"<em>Come</em>, slut."</p><p>Orgasm washes over Gil in a sudden, intense wave that he can’t resist, turns his vision white as he shouts, luckily incoherent despite Malcolm's name on his tongue. The Master kisses down his chest as he spills, twitching in the man's hand and then slowly going soft again as Gil's whole body goes limp.</p><p>"That was good. So good for me. <em> So </em>good.” </p><p>He keeps stroking, even when Gil starts to whine from overstimulation, and then finally stops, leaving Gil moaning and shaking and exhausted. He pushes his fingers into Gil’s mouth, and he doesn’t have to say anything for Gil to know what he’s supposed to do. Gil's tongue goes over them almost without thought, cleaning himself off of them, and the Master smiles, sliding them in and out as Gil’s eyes start to flutter shut. </p><p>"I told you. Never a boy I couldn't wring out. But I admire how hard you fought it. You're going to do well. Both of you."</p><p>Meager energy spent, Gil passes out. One moment he's in the bed, the Master saying things Gil can't make out, and then he's being hauled down the hall, feet dragging on the floor, and then he's deposited onto a cot.</p><p>The door rattles shut, though the light in the hall stays on. Gil vaguely wonders if that means it's day, because there's been no other way to tell.</p><p>"Gil…" </p><p>Thank God that he's still here, that Gil is still with him. But Malcolm's voice is so weak, so raspy, barely able to be heard. Gil turns his head, forcing his eyes open, and watches as Malcolm reaches his arm out towards him, then lets it go limp and hang over the side of his cot.</p><p>Gil groans, arm dropping off as he tries to grab it, but he can't move any more than that. They wouldn't reach anyways unless they got up, something the drugs won't allow, with a length of maybe six feet between them. Six feet and yet an ocean apart. </p><p>Malcolm whimpers. "<em>Gil…</em>"</p><p>"'m here," Gil whispers. He wants nothing more than to hold him, but he can't keep his eyes open. "'m here, Mal…'s okay. 's all okay."</p><p>It's not. Nothing will ever be okay again.</p><p>This time when darkness takes him, it stays for far longer, and Gil's grateful for it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gil and Malcolm go out for some hands on experience 😇👐🥂</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gil wakes to the sound of choking. His eyes won't open immediately and his brain is still foggy, but he’s relieved to be back in control of his limbs. He rolls over and tries to force himself to focus as he groans out, "Bright…?"</p><p>The lights in the hall are out now. He can't see but he can hear Malcolm panting in between gut wrenching heaves. </p><p>"Bright, what's going on?"</p><p>Slowly Malcolm quiets. He coughs a few times. "Nothing. Nauseous."</p><p>Gil should have thought about it before, but for the first time he's realizing that without his medication Malcolm is going to suffer in more ways than just one.</p><p>"You're withdrawing," he says, struggling to sit up, and is hit with his own nausea. "Oh, kid—"</p><p>"I'm <em> fine," </em>Malcolm snaps. “I just…” He trails off into a sob. “Gil...did he—?"</p><p>Gil doesn't reply. He doesn't have to. Malcolm curses, slides out of bed and staggers over to lay beside him.</p><p>"I'm okay," Gil says as Malcolm gently touches over his face with shaking hands and then curls against him.</p><p>"You're not. I-I'm not."</p><p>Gil can't argue with that. He wouldn't dare. So he lets it be quiet instead of responding.</p><p>Malcolm is trembling, his skin clammy, and he eventually drifts back into sleep. Gil holds him close, soothing him silent with murmurs every time he starts to whine or twitch. He wakes up to retch again and then clings to Gil. </p><p>"I am," he says. "Withdrawing from my benzos. I'm going to get sick. Fever, disorientation...worse. I'm not...I'm not going to be able to think anymore." </p><p>Not going to be able to <em>profile, </em>not that they let him do anything with it. Gil doesn't know what to say, what to do. He just rubs Malcolm's back, tells him he loves him, that they're going to get out of this alive, until he sleeps again and Gil is alone with his thoughts. </p><p>He’s probably too close to Malcolm. He doesn’t think he should ever be this close again after the awful perverted things he had thought of while he’d been in that room, on that bed. Malcolm wouldn’t want him to be if he knew. </p><p>It’s hard to come to the reality that any of that really happened. He’s sore, his member and his ass, and he feels disgusting and used and sick, and more than that he feels like he betrayed Malcolm by picturing him doing those things. The only thing it had really helped him with was coming, and that’s only what the Master wanted him to do, not Gil. Gil should have fought harder even despite the drugs.</p><p>His mouth feels like sandpaper inside from thirst, but at least he doesn’t feel very hungry. He doesn’t want to know what they’re going to have to do for food and water...but he’ll do it in place of Malcolm if need be. It’s already happened. Right now, he feels emotionally disconnected from it, and he hopes it stays that way.</p><p>The lights turn on in the hall, and Gil wraps his body around Malcolm's, pressing his face into Malcolm's neck and pretending that he can save Malcolm from harm with just how much he loves him.</p><p>The door rolls up. He holds his breath and braces for a shock but it doesn’t come. Instead one of the Master's men comes a few feet into the room and demands: “On your feet." </p><p>Gil refuses, and that’s when the shock comes. His body seizes, nearly knocking Malcolm off the bed, and because he’s touching Malcolm it shocks him too.</p><p>“Get the fuck up! Or did you like that, slut?”</p><p>Gil did not. Slowly he uncurls and sits, bringing Malcolm up to do the same, and then stands. Malcolm doubles over, groaning, and Gil looks to the man. "He needs a doctor."</p><p>The man points the remote at him again, and Gil flinches.</p><p>"Line up in the hall. <em> Now, </em>or I swear to God I'll make you both hurt."</p><p>Gil sneers at him, wrapping Malcolm's arm around his shoulders and pulling him to his feet, leading him out where the man is pointing. </p><p>He gasps, his heart skipping a beat in his chest, as he's met with the sight of a dozen others, all of them leaning against the walls outside the rooms, dressed in the same underwear as them, some of them bruised and beaten. </p><p>"Fuck," Malcolm says, breathless, standing up on shaky legs that seem to only just support him. "Oh, <em> shit.</em>" </p><p>Someone shoves Gil from behind, forcing them up against the wall, and another man joins the first, a clipboard in his grip. Malcolm shrinks against Gil's side, his hand starting to shake.</p><p>"Morning, pretty puppy," the man says, grinning as he looks Malcolm over. "My marks look so <em> good </em> on that pretty pale skin of yours. Don't you think so, officer?"</p><p>Gil growls at him. He steps more in front of Malcolm, shielding him the best he can.</p><p>"Does that make you mad?” He laughs, then lists off four names. Four captives step forward, making another line, and then the first man gestures at the two of them.</p><p>"You both, too. Boss wants you to have some hands-on experience. Step <em> forward, </em>fuckers!"</p><p>"Where—" Gil starts, and the second slaps him across the face, and Malcolm gasps. </p><p>"Speak when you're <em> fucking </em>spoken to or I'll break this fucking clipboard over your head. Got it?"</p><p>Stunned, Gil nods once. The man slaps him <em>again,</em> the sound of the contact ringing in his ears, and growls, "I wanna hear <em>yes sir."</em></p><p>"Yes sir," Gil grits out, and Malcolm's fingers brush against his hand as he gets in line, silently begging Gil to do the same.</p><p>Again, for Malcolm, Gil does.</p><p>"Good boy. Alright, start walking, all of you! Let's go!"</p><p>Gil glances down at Malcolm, and then lets out a short yelp when one of them pinches his ass hard and then slaps it.</p><p>"I said <em>move,</em> slut!"</p><p>Gil's face flushes as he obeys. Malcolm groans and lurches to the side with an arm wrapped around his stomach. Gil is horrified to see in the lighting just how bad the boy looks from yesterday. The bastard had beaten him viciously, left him covered in bruises, bite marks and scratches over his shoulders and neck and back…</p><p>And Gil hadn't been able to stop it. He fears just what else he's not going to be able to stop.</p><p>They're led down the hall and into a large open area holding sinks, toilets, and several shower heads coming from the wall. Nothing is in stalls. The toilets are lined up beside each other, same as the showers, giving none of them any privacy.</p><p>Malcolm chokes, taking a step towards one of the sinks, and the man from before grabs his arm, swinging him around to hold him up against his chest. </p><p>“Where you think you’re going, puppy? Did anyone give you permission?"</p><p>"Sick," Malcolm says. "Gonna…"</p><p>"Vic, he's gonna puke on you," the other man laughs. </p><p>"Better not, little boy. I'll beat you into the floor again."</p><p>Malcolm covers his mouth and heaves against it, whining muffled as Vic pinches his nipple. </p><p>"Let him go," Gil growls, and Vic bites Malcolm's ear, grinning. Gil doesn't notice the other bringing out the remote again, and he drops to his knees as he's shocked again, busting them against the hard tile floor.</p><p>Vic chuckles, rocking Malcolm against him. "Mine," he says. "Not yours. Now get up and strip." </p><p>Gil pulls at the collar, snarling, and then slowly gets up, reluctantly stepping out of the underwear. Vic slips his hand down into Malcolm's, fondling him before pulling them down, and Malcolm groans. </p><p>Vic pushes him away, and Malcolm trips over the fabric still around his ankles. Gil just barely catches him, helping him stay upright as he steps out of them. </p><p>"Good boys. Time to shower. Go on!"</p><p>Gil leads Malcolm to the walls. The other man, who Gil hears Vic call Don in a muttered conversation, handcuffs one wrist of each of them to the metal bar before them, and then turns the water on.</p><p>It sprays them in the face, ice cold. Gil chokes, lowering his head, and scowls. He glances down the line and notices the others have already started washing themselves with the soap provided, and though humiliated he starts to do the same.</p><p>"Wash up," Don says. "Shave, except you, old man. Get your piss out, too. Let's go."</p><p>Malcolm is bent over, gagging, legs shaking. Gil can't do anything else but hurry to wash the soap off himself and then reach out in an attempt to maybe do the same to Malcolm.</p><p>"No touching!" Vic shouts, and Gil is so startled he drops the bar. </p><p>"Shame puppy can't bend down and get that…let me help." Vic turns off the water to Malcolm's shower, grabs his throat, and shaves his face. Malcolm is forced to endure the choking, wheezing in his air, to avoid being cut. </p><p>Gil stands there, shivering, as Vic starts soaping Malcolm's body up, as Malcolm whimpers and Vic mutters what he wants to do to him into his ear. Malcolm cries out suddenly, making Gil jump, and Vic laughs.</p><p>"It's just my finger, puppy...gotta get you clean inside too." </p><p>He starts fisting Malcolm's cock, his pace slow. Malcolm moans as Vic looks at Gil.</p><p>"Look how pretty he is," Vic says. "So beautiful and mine."</p><p>"Let go of him."</p><p>"You're right," Vic says. "Got to save him up for later. I think I'm done anyway."</p><p>He lets Malcolm go and turns the water back on, and Malcolm slumps against the wall, crying softly, his erection slowly going down under the stream of cold water, overwhelmed with shame for it ever being there in the first place. </p><p>He can't do this. Not normally, but not withdrawing. Already his head is clouded, and he's having trouble remembering things. He fears, in his sickness, things will get exponentially worse.</p><p>The water eventually is shut off again. They're unchained, thrown towels, and then, when they're dry, given clothes to wear. </p><p>Not exactly clothes. Lingerie. It barely covers them at all, lacing up their chests. Gil hardly fits, and he has to leave a piece off, but Malcolm's body shapes perfectly underneath the fabric.</p><p>Maybe Gil belongs on the other side of all this if that's how he's going to think. </p><p>They're led out the back of the storage facility, the first time either of them have seen outside since their capture. They're led towards a van, led by flashlights, and though weak Malcolm has the urge to scream. He wonders if he'd be heard, or if they would kill him before he could even draw the breath to. They're somewhere secluded, surely, but maybe… </p><p>A hand comes over his mouth, and he yelps into it, surprised. Vic nips his ear and holds him back from the others. </p><p>"The last boy that screamed we beat to death right here," he says. "Is that what you were thinking about doing, puppy? I sure hope not. I'm really starting to like having you around."</p><p>Gil wants to slam the man to the ground to save Malcolm from his touch, but he can't. He can do nothing as they're all handcuffed to each other and forced to get into the back of the vehicle. </p><p>It's a long drive to wherever they're going. Malcolm is slumped against his side for most of it, eyes shut tight, his and Gil's hands clasped together.</p><p>Gil dares to ask the name of one of the others, and Don shouts at him, threatens to beat them all if he makes another noise, and he silences himself.</p><p>When the van stops and they're let out, still cuffed together, Gil finds them in a nice neighborhood, led up to a house costing more than he could afford.</p><p>There's too many cars parked out front. Gil has a terrible feeling he knows exactly where this is going, and Malcolm squeezes his hand a little tighter, too smart to not have figured out the same even in his daze.</p><p>"No one at this doesn't know <em> exactly </em>what you are," Vic tells them as he opens the door. "They're not going to help you. Scream and I'll let everyone here fuck your mouth until you're so sore you can't make a sound." </p><p>He pushes them inside and unlocks their cuffs. The other four are led into the crowd of men and a few women, and Vic leads both Gil and Malcolm with one hand fisting their hair to a couch in the living room.</p><p>"Sit," he says, throwing them down onto it. "You're just to watch...for now. Maybe get a few touches in if you're popular. Really try to pay attention...it's what you'll be doing at the next one." </p><p>Malcolm sits as close to Gil as he can, against his side, holding his hand again between them, hidden from view of anyone who looks. </p><p>Several people look, at first, then a few more. Most of the attention is given to the four others, and Malcolm feels sick having to watch what the crowd does to them, and then someone sits beside Malcolm.</p><p>"You're a <em> pretty </em>thing," he says. "My god...what I wouldn't pay for you to ride my dick." </p><p>"Back off," Gil says through clenched teeth, and the man laughs. </p><p>"Don't be jealous now. You can get a ride too if you want." </p><p>Gil sneers at him. Someone else sits beside him, wraps an arm around him, and Gil fights, slashing his nails across their arm. </p><p>"Fuck! That hurt, you whore!" </p><p>"Good!" </p><p>"That's no way to act, baby…" He bites down on Gil's shoulder, and Gil shoves back against them. </p><p>"Hands off him!" Vic shouts, and Gil is confused for a moment before he realizes it's only so his collar can be activated. He cries out, falling back and clawing at the damn thing as the shock lasts longer than the others, draining his strength.</p><p>When it stops, he can hardly move. Vic is telling the men they're new, not to expect good behavior, and then he's pinning Gil down by his throat.</p><p>"That feel good?" he asks. "No? Better knock that shit the fuck off. Either of you fuck up and you both get it." He shocks Malcolm, too, wringing a scream out of him, and Gil chokes out an apology.</p><p>"What was that?"</p><p>"Sorry, sir," Gil repeats. </p><p>"Yeah. You are sorry. Sit there and enjoy. Might even let you come later if you're good, huh?" He strokes Gil's cheek, cups his chin. "It's a party, baby. Have a little fun."</p><p>He runs his hand down Gil's chest as he pulls away. Gil looks over to where Malcolm's already been pulled into the other man's lap, his face twisted in a scowl as the man forces kisses on him. He struggles, pushing back against the man's chest, and then simply lets it happen, either from exhaustion or defeat.</p><p>Gil isn't alone for very long. A woman slides up beside him, telling him how good and handsome he looks, and he does his best to ignore her, even as she touches him and starts kissing his neck. His eyes are only on Malcolm. </p><p>Malcolm grunts, glancing at Gil without being able to turn his head, and he's humiliated and angry. The man holds his hips and bounces him up and down on his  cock as he kisses him, moaning into his mouth, and Malcolm refuses to make a sound. He wants to bite the man's tongue, get it out of his mouth, but he doesn't want Gil to suffer. <em> He </em>doesn't want to suffer.</p><p>He's suffering either way. He doesn't think he really matters anymore.</p><p>The man comes under him and discards him back on the couch with one last kiss. Malcolm picks himself up, feeling every bit the trash he'd just been treated as, and then looks to Gil.</p><p>Gil's face is red, and he isn't looking at Malcolm. It takes a second for Malcolm to understand why the woman at his side is moaning so loudly into his shoulder, realizing that she's forced one of Gil's hands between her legs. </p><p>Malcolm is grabbed again, brought into someone else's lap, another tongue shoved down his throat. This time the man starts to touch him at the same time. Someone behind Malcolm pushes him up, and inserts lubricated fingers into his hole.</p><p>He chokes out a cry, rutting his hips forward, and then the fingers are gone, replaced by something cold and metal and then suddenly <em> vibrating. </em></p><p>Malcolm screams at the sensation, writhing in the man's lap.</p><p>"There he goes! Sounding like the little slut he is…just needed a little encouragement…" </p><p>Whoever's behind him slides the dildo in and out of him, and he's brought to the very verge of coming, whining and whimpering and squirming, before all the touch stops and the toy is removed. He slumps against the man, panting.</p><p>"You're not coming, yet, baby," he says, pinching Malcolm's nipples, biting his lower lip as he kisses him again. </p><p>When he's no longer so close, it starts up once more. The man under him comes and is replaced with another. He's edged again and again, and at some point someone must be doing the same to Gil, because all Malcolm can hear is Gil stifling and choking on moans, unable to even open his eyes to find out.</p><p>It becomes painful, and he's <em> so </em>desperate to come, but they don't stop, and they don't let him. He sobs, hands scrabbling at the man he's sitting on and grabbing on tight.</p><p>"Ah ah!" Vic is back, swiping Malcolm's sweaty hair out of his face. "Don't come, puppy. Hold it in."</p><p>They don't even give him the chance. They expertly tease him until whines and cries are pouring from his mouth and he doesn't have a hope to stop them. </p><p>He doesn't realize he's moaning "<em>Gil"— </em>or when he started—until the man under him asks who that is, and he's too far gone to stop until the dildo is removed again, and the man finishes and pushes him down onto the couch. </p><p>No one touches him again right away, and Malcolm gasps for air. He hears Gil panting just as hard beside him, but for a minute they're left alone.</p><p>"You want your Gil so bad?" Vic asks. "Get in his lap."</p><p>Malcolm doesn't hesitate climbing into Gil's lap, desperate for his comfort, his touch instead of anyone else's. Gil is shaking from exhaustion and stimulation beneath him, and Malcolm holds onto him tightly. </p><p>"Give us a show, baby," he says. "Let's see you make him come for us."</p><p>Malcolm gasps, and Gil closes his eyes.</p><p>"No," Malcolm says. "No! I won't."</p><p>Vic grabs his hair, jerking his head back. "You'll do whatever you're told to, <em> whore</em>."</p><p>"<em>No," </em>Malcolm hisses, and Gil wraps his arms around him protectively. </p><p>"It's okay," he whispers. "Please, I can't see you hurt."</p><p>"I can't<em> assault </em>you!"</p><p>"If you don't make him come," Vic says, "I'm going to shove my beer up his ass and fuck him with that for entertainment. You want that?"</p><p>Malcolm whimpers and shakes his head. Gil encouragingly squeezes his hips, and then Malcolm slowly starts to grind his ass down.</p><p>Gil hates how good it feels, sensitive from all the touching and teasing he's been enduring. His grip on Malcolm tightens and he bites his lip. Malcolm's eyes lock onto his mouth, and he licks his own lips.</p><p>"Give us <em> more,</em>" Vic says, boxing Malcolm over his head, and Malcolm leans closer.</p><p>"What...what do I do?" he asks desperately. "Gil, I can't...I cant…"</p><p>"I love you. It's okay, Bright. Please."</p><p>"I love you," Malcolm sobs. "Can I kiss you?" </p><p>Gil nods. Malcolm presses their lips together and gasps. He wants to go back to that night...he wants to go <em> home. </em></p><p>Gil doesn't kiss him back at first, his eyes behind them on their audience, but as Malcolm starts moving again he groans softly and reaches up to cup the back of Malcolm's neck to deepen the kiss.</p><p>Malcolm starts to breathe harder, feeling his cock start to harden. He leans closer, rubbing it against Gil's belly, and lets out a quiet moan into Gil's mouth.</p><p>Gil's other hand slides down further, grips at his hip. Malcolm has wanted this so <em> long, </em>and it's been ruined by force, by all the men watching them.</p><p>"Get <em> to </em>it," Vic orders. "This isn't supposed to be bonding." </p><p>Malcolm grabs at Gil's shoulders and kisses him harder, grinding down, and Gil groans, rocking upwards.</p><p>"That's it, baby…" Vic purrs, "Bounce on that cock. Look at you."</p><p>Malcolm flinches and stops moving, tearful. He moves down, reaches between them, and rubs Gil through the thin fabric.</p><p>"Hell..." Gil says, clenching his teeth.</p><p>"Make noise, sluts. This isn't for you. You're putting on a show for <em> us.</em>"</p><p>Malcolm is letting out a moan almost before Vic has finished speaking. His hand brushed against himself, and he's still achingly hard.</p><p>"You don't come, puppy. Maybe when you're done. We'll see."</p><p>Still Malcolm starts to squirm more. He touches Gil for a bit longer and then slides his ass over him again and starts to rut down. It feels too good, far better than anything anyone else has done to him so far. It's a reward all its own, being able to get aroused with Gil instead of the Master or Vic or any of the rest of these strangers.</p><p>Gil's hands tighten even more, and Malcolm knows he's doing well. It encourages him a little, and he even manages to smile<em> , </em>leaning to kiss at his Gil's neck, hiding everyone else from his sight.</p><p>They're alone, at home. It's just them. </p><p>Gil starts to pant, grunting with every few thrusts Malcolm gives. "Fuck, Bright—" </p><p>"Yeah?" Malcolm asks, and he's almost proud. "I love you...my god, I love you…"</p><p>Gil starts really rocking up against Malcolm's ass. He's close, Malcolm can tell, so he increases his efforts, bounces faster and moans into another kiss.</p><p>"Gil," he whines, "<em>Gil." </em></p><p>"I'm—" Gil can't finish before he's gasping and jerking up, and Malcolm feels his cock pulsing beneath him as he comes. Malcolm reaches down and touches himself, whimpering and pressing his face against Gil's shoulder as he edges closer, and then yelps as Vic drags him off Gil's lap by his hair.</p><p>"Anyone tell you that you could touch yourself, slut? I don't think so."</p><p>"Stop," Gil groans, dazed, and Vic grins.</p><p>"I'm not gonna do anything," he says, holding Malcolm on his feet and pressing against him from behind. "Get up, old man. Suck him off."</p><p>Gil shakes his head. "No."</p><p>"Then I'm going to fuck him into the floor. Your choice."</p><p>"Gil," Malcolm says, "Gil, please, I can't…" </p><p>Gil has no choice. With a groan he slides off the couch onto his knees. Malcolm's hips jerk forwards, and he's unable to hide that he <em> wants. </em>It doesn't make it any easier on either of them.</p><p>Slowly, Gil leans forward. He pulls away the lingerie, and Malcolm's cock springs out, hard and leaking. Gil is nearly overwhelmed with how badly he wants to taste him, but not here. Not like this.</p><p>"Last chance," Vic says.</p><p>"Gil!" Malcolm whispers, pushing forward. </p><p>Gil grasps his cock, and Malcolm cries out. Vic holds him steady, rubbing hands over his nipples, and Gil finally licks his tongue up the underside of Malcolm. </p><p>Malcolm makes a sound Gil has never heard before, a yelp that arouses him more than it should. It spurs him on, and he takes Malcolm into his mouth at last. </p><p>"<em>Gil!</em>" Malcolm gasps, and Vic chuckles. </p><p>"Hold that load in a little longer, puppy. Gonna feel so good when you let it out, but not yet. Behave. You were a little bad, but this will make it up."</p><p>Malcolm struggles to obey. Gil is gentle and easy, but even despite the situation and Vic's hands over him he's shaking with arousal. Gil licks and sucks, just at his tip and then takes him a little further down, his eyes sliding closed.</p><p>"He's enjoying this," Vic says. "Goddamn. That's hot. He takes dick so pretty, just like you."</p><p>He starts to rub against Malcolm, giving thrusts that push him into Gil's mouth. Malcolm is pushed closer and closer to his peak, fighting it with all of his strength. </p><p>"Please—" he finally gasps. "Please let me!"</p><p>"No," Vic says.</p><p>Gil groans, his face flushed as he takes Malcolm. He's trying to make it easier for the boy not to come, but it's quickly noticed.</p><p>"You're being too gentle. <em> Suck </em> him. Swallow him down like the slut you are."</p><p>Gil takes Malcolm down to his shaft, and Malcolm shouts out, nearly hitting both of them as he slams his arms out in surprise.</p><p>"I need to—"</p><p>"I said wait," Vic says, pinching a nipple. "So you'll wait."</p><p>Gil is briefly lost to the sensation, the taste of Malcolm, something he's been desperate for. He can almost forget where they are, imagining them somewhere private, alone, safe. </p><p>Malcolm starts to give a constant stream of whines, writhing, and Gil massages his thighs, looks up at him and tries to nod as they make eye contact. The way he looks, the way he feels, is about to kill Malcolm.</p><p>"Gil—" Malcolm gasps, gritting his teeth. "I can't—I need to—"</p><p>Vic bites his ear, and Malcolm moans. He has to come. He's going to.</p><p>"Feels so good, doesn't it? You got so many people hard from your noises. They're touching themselves to you."</p><p>Gil groans, but it's not happy. He's<em> pissed, </em> glancing around to find Vic is right, and he nearly pulls off.</p><p>"If you stop sucking, I'm going to fuck you <em> both </em> with a bottle."</p><p>Gil listens. He obediently sucks, and Malcolm leaks even more precome onto his tongue. </p><p>Hips thrusting forward desperately on their own, Malcolm feels like he's going to explode. He's panting and moaning embarrassingly, and he's fully aware of the men stroking themselves as they watch, but Gil is killing him looking like that, doing this. It feels so good he can't stand it anymore, and Vic cups the front of his neck to make it hard to breathe.</p><p>"You ready to come, puppy? You really ready?"</p><p>"Please!" Malcolm wails, and Vic laughs.</p><p>"You real sure? Yeah? You really wanna shoot down his throat, don't you? So close. He's sucking you so good, isn't he?"</p><p>Malcolm tenses, on the very edge of an orgasm he can't hold back any longer. "Please! I'm—have to<em> —" </em></p><p>"Bust for us, puppy," he coos, and Malcolm shrieks Gil's name and comes harder than he has in years into Gil's mouth.</p><p>Gil moans, choking it all down. Malcolm doesn't know anything for a moment except pleasure, except Gil swallowing around him, whimpering over and over until he's finally empty.</p><p>"Keep your mouth on him," Vic orders. "His whimpers are too cute to stop."</p><p>Malcolm whines, oversensitive even as Gil doesn't suck anymore, just keeping him in his mouth as ordered. </p><p>Vic groans, sucking a mark onto Malcolm's neck. "You begged to come all night...I think you've got one more in you."</p><p>"No," Malcolm groans. "No...please…"</p><p>"Suck, slut," Vic orders.</p><p>Gil doesn't want to. Malcolm is shaking so hard above him and he feels terrible, but he starts to move his mouth again anyway, afraid of what will happen if he refuses. Malcolm starts to cry, trying to pull away, but Vic holds him steady. </p><p>"Come on, pretty puppy. Fill out for us again. Your cock's so beautiful...come on."</p><p>"Get<em> off!</em>" Malcolm shouts, bucking forward. "Let go of me!" </p><p>"Is that any way to treat who just let you come? Disobedient little fucker…" He slides two fingers into Malcolm's mouth, and Malcolm tries to push them out with his tongue. </p><p>"Get them wet, or it's going to hurt."</p><p>"Don't," Malcolm groans, but Vic slides his fingers around in his mouth before reaching down to slip them between his cheeks anyways, pressing into him.</p><p>Malcolm thrusts his hips, and Gil gags on him. Malcolm's attention is back on Gil immediately, and he watches as Gil coughs and recovers, his eyes teary. He wants to be home where he can think that's as hot as it is.</p><p>He's hard again, now, and far more desperate. Gil closes his fist around the base of Malcolm's cock and moves it with his mouth. He rubs Malcolm's thigh, trying to comfort him, tastes precome again and knows Malcolm's getting closer.</p><p>The noises Malcolm's making get louder, and Vic shoves his fingers in deeper, pushing against his prostate, until finally he comes again, crying out as he thrusts into Gil's mouth. </p><p>"That's a good pup…" Vic says, having to hold him up completely now. "Perfect. Oh, you're making everyone feel so <em> good, </em>baby. So many people about to come for you. Pull back, old man."</p><p>Gil pulls off with a gasp, and Malcolm whines. "Please—"</p><p>Vic shoves him to his hands and knees. Gil wraps an arm around him and pulls him close, feeling him shake against him.</p><p>"Gil, s-sorry…" </p><p>Vic laughs before Gil can respond. "Don't be sorry...he liked it. We all see his boner. Come on. One more act. You," He points at Gil, "sit against the couch. The puppy's gonna suck <em> you </em>now."</p><p>"No!" </p><p>Vic grabs him and shoves him back into place anyways. "You'll stop fighting one day. Just like they all do." He shoves Malcolm with his foot towards Gil, and Malcolm positions himself between Gil's legs.</p><p>"Bright, <em> don't!" </em>Gil pleads, but they both know there's no choice. He's not protesting because it wouldn't feel good, but to protect Malcolm. </p><p>Malcolm would rather have Gil than anyone else, though. So he leans over and licks Gil gently, kisses the head, and then takes him into his mouth.</p><p>Gil curses and leans back. He's the only one Malcolm ever wants to taste again, and as he groans Gil throbs against his tongue.</p><p>He's caught up in making it feel good, <em> wanting </em> to, when there's conversation behind him, and a man approaches. He steps over Gil, and takes himself out.</p><p>Gil jerks his head to the side. "Don't—"</p><p>"Open up, bitch," the man says. He grabs Gil's hair and yanks his head back into place before forcing his mouth open with his fingers and then shoving himself inside. </p><p>Malcolm pulls off, a protest halfway out of his mouth until Vic grabs his head and slams it back down, forces Gil's cock down his throat.</p><p>Gil moans helplessly. He can't see Malcolm anymore, but he feels his boy gagging and swallowing around him, choking on him the way Gil starts to choke on the man in his own mouth. </p><p>He can't breathe. Vic praises how well they're both taking it. Malcolm's nails dig into his thighs, and Gil's hand somehow finds Malcolm's. Malcolm grabs onto it, squeezing, and Gil squeezes back. It helps, somehow.</p><p>His chest burns, his face wet with tears, and the man fucks into him again and again, never once letting up enough for him to take in even the slightest air. Malcolm squirms between his legs, and Gil tries to wrap them around him best he can, the only attempt at comfort he can make.</p><p>The man roughly shoves forward one last time and comes. Gil can only swallow, and when he's done the man releases his hair and pulls out, stepping away as Gil desperately gasps for breath.</p><p>Malcolm's eyes are wide and streaming tears, his face dark red as Vic forces his head down again and again even as he struggles harder, clawing at Gil's thigh.</p><p>"You better come," Vic laughs. "He's about to pass the fuck out."</p><p>"Please," Gil says with a raspy voice. He struggles to move backwards, and Vic only pushes Malcolm forward to follow him.</p><p>Malcolm's lungs are on fire, and all he can hear is the sound of his own choking. He clutches Gil's hand harder, the only thing keeping him together, and works his tongue until his strength dwindles too much to do anything but strain for air that won't come.</p><p>"He can breathe when you come. So fucking<em> come.</em>"</p><p>Gil groans, but even with the sensation he's only half hard now. Watching Malcolm suffocating on him is the scariest thing he's ever seen, and he's nowhere near close to climax.</p><p>Malcolm's noises get weaker, his eyes losing focus, his grip becoming looser.</p><p>"Malcolm!" Gil says, and Malcolm's eyes go up to him before finally rolling back as he passes out.</p><p>Vic snorts. "Fucking disappointment," he says, releasing Malcolm's head, and Gil pulls himself out of Malcolm's mouth, grabbing his boy and pulling him close.</p><p>Malcolm wheezes in a weak breath, then another, and Gil holds him tight, shaking, watching his face slowly regain color. "Bright…"</p><p>"Puppy needed a nap after all that," Vic says, kicking Gil's leg. "Back on the couch. I know the boss told you that you'd be punished if you didn't get hard when you were supposed to...but I'm sure he won't make us hurt you too bad. Not like you were fucking anyone <em>important."</em></p><p>Gil slowly gets up, sitting at the very corner of the couch with Malcolm cradled in his lap. He doesn't watch the rest of the party continue. He just looks at Malcolm, stroking his cheek, murmuring to him to wake up.</p><p>Eventually Malcolm's eyes open again. He coughs and whimpers, and Gil kisses his cheek, apologizing as many times as he can before Malcolm grabs his hand and weakly tells him it's okay. </p><p>It <em> isn't. </em>Gil will never forgive himself for any of this. </p><p>The party goes on, but they're left to themselves. Maybe the others are bored of them after seeing everything they could do. Malcolm sleeps again in his arms, feverishly, whimpering, and Gil holds him tight. </p><p>Vic makes eye contact with Gil from across the room, winking at him, and Gil has never felt more murderous.</p><p>Or more helpless, in a room full of people where not a single one will save them.</p><p>They'll have to save themselves.</p><p>Gil just doesn't know how yet.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A little punishment...but not the worst to come 😇</p><p>Kind of like fuck or die? Sex pollen but not really? Drug make boy horny. That's the summary.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun is starting to rise when they’re led back outside and to the van. Malcolm can’t walk at all, his feet dragging as Gil holds him up with one of Malcolm’s arms around his shoulders. </p><p>Malcolm doesn’t feel good. He’s some eight hours into withdrawal by now, and while they’re being handcuffed together again he throws up. </p><p>“Silly puppy,” Vic says. “You didn’t take down a single load. That was all your Gil. Why are you sick?”</p><p>“He needs a <em> doctor,</em>” Gil tells them again. “He’s getting worse, he’s—”</p><p>“Shut your mouth, slut.” He holds up his beer, and Gil sneers at him.</p><p>Malcolm groans, finally trying to put his feet down. He looks at the beer and hates how desperate he is by now for anything to drink that it's even obvious to Vic.</p><p>"You want some?" Vic asks. He grabs Malcolm's jaw in his hand, tilts his head back, and puts the bottle in his mouth. "Drink, puppy."</p><p>Malcolm doesn't want to, knowing it'll only dehydrate him more, but Vic of course doesn't give him a choice. He pours it down his throat and Malcolm chokes on it, gulping down what he's given.</p><p>"You swallow so damn pretty," Vic says, pulling the bottle back and licking where Malcolm's lips had been. </p><p>Malcolm's stomach was already protesting but that sends him into another bout of heaves, and Vic grabs his hair.</p><p>"Poor puppy," he says, not sounding like he cares at all, and then slaps his ass and pushes him towards the van.</p><p>Malcolm groans. Gil helps him up and into the back, and Malcolm tucks himself against Gil’s side, folding his knees up close to his chest.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Gil murmurs, just loud enough for him to hear. “I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Malcolm kisses his shoulder. "Love you. I love you. I love you."</p><p>Gil knows he shouldn't, and Gil almost wishes he didn't. He kisses Malcolm's head, only able to think over what he's going to say to him when they're back in the room, alone. </p><p>When they're back at the facility, dragged back out and uncuffed, he wraps his arm around Malcolm's waist and helps him inside. Don shouts at them that it's shower time, and then Vic suddenly yanks Malcolm from Gil's unsuspecting grasp.</p><p>"What—" Gil says, and Vic points the remote at him.</p><p>"Go wash up," he says.</p><p>"<em>Give him,'</em> Gil demands, and Vic activates his collar, dropping him with a cry.</p><p>"I'll give him back when I'm done," he says, tossing Malcolm over his shoulder. He hands the remote back to Don. "Behave or you'll both go another day without water. How's that sound?" </p><p>"Let go!" Gil shouts anyways, and Malcolm raises his head just enough to see Gil as Vic carries him away. </p><p>"Gil," he whimpers, but he can't do anything but go limp again, eyes closed, waiting for whatever will happen next. He hears Gil call out for him again, then cry out in pain, and then they're too far away.</p><p>Vic takes him to another room, rubbing over Malcolm's ass and whistling to himself. Kicking the door closed, he sucks on a finger and then pushes it down to circle Malcolm's rim, making him gasp.</p><p>"What...please," Malcolm says as if he doesn't know. "What are you…?"</p><p>Vic slips it inside and Malcolm kicks back, and Vic slides him down until he's pinned between Vic and the wall.</p><p>“Your mouth is dirty," Vic says, "but not so much your pretty hole. And we don’t waste water here...so I’ll have to make sure you really <em> need </em>a shower first.”</p><p>“No,” Malcolm whispers, but he’s too weak to stop it. He maybe always was. It’s happened so many times by now, right? He should have been able to protect himself, protect Gil, talk them both out of it. </p><p>He’d tried so damn hard the first time Vic had hurt him. He’d said everything he could possibly think of, and Vic had done nothing but beat him for it. He’s still so sore, especially when every man and woman whose hands had been on him at the party had done nothing but push and press down on his bruises, leaving more in the shapes of fingerprints.</p><p>He looks disgusting. They’ve made him look like a whore. </p><p>Just like the first time he'd done it Vic doesn’t spend much time stretching him. He keeps the lingerie on, just pulls it to the side and lifts Malcolm up on his hips, pushing him against the wall and popping the head of his cock through the opening Malcolm is unwillingly clenching tight. He yelps, trying to relax, but there’s nothing he can do to make it better for himself.</p><p>“Sound so pretty…so beautiful."</p><p>Malcolm writhes as Vic thrusts himself deep, not even giving him a chance to get used to it. Vic holds him tight, starting to fuck into him, and Malcolm whines in pain, shoving at Vic’s chest.</p><p>“Ah ah, puppy. Be good for me. You wouldn’t want to get punished, would you? You were such a good little whore.”</p><p>Malcolm pushes again, furiously. “Not—a—whore!”</p><p>Vic snaps his hips forward, and a cry spills from Malcolm’s mouth before he can close it. </p><p>“No? ‘Cause you sure fuckin’ sound like it. The way you were screaming with that toy up your ass and a tongue down your throat. The way you choked on his cock ‘til you were purple.” He grunts, thrusting faster. “Hot as all hell, puppy. I didn’t get you to turn that pretty color last time with me...so we’re gonna try again. Not tonight...just gotta fuck you for now. Wanted you all night—fuck! You’re so <em> sexy. </em> Gonna fuck you every day. You're <em> mine."</em></p><p>Malcolm’s energy leaves him in a rush, and he slumps forward. His cheek rests against Vic’s shoulder, staring off to the side of the room, as Vic fucks into him harder and he's faced with the horror of this happening every day for the rest of his life.</p><p>“Don’t go quiet! I want to hear you. Come on…”</p><p>Malcolm whines weakly and shuts his eyes tight. Vic moves him around on his hips until he finds an angle that makes Malcolm gasp and then pins him there to hit it every time.</p><p>“Don’t usually care about my fuck’s pleasure,” he says, “but you deserve a reward. You took so much tonight...now you’re taking me.” He reaches down to take Malcolm’s cock in his hand, starting to stroke it in time with his movements. “One more come, puppy. Gonna make it real good for you.” </p><p>He kisses and bites Malcolm’s neck, sucking new marks over fading ones, and Malcolm starts rocking forward, unable to fight it as heat starts building in his belly. </p><p>Vic fists him faster. “Whine for me, puppy, come on—let me know how good it feels!"</p><p>Malcolm moans, grabbing at Vic's shoulders to brace himself, clenching his teeth. </p><p>"Yeah—you feel so good—so <em> pretty— </em>the sounds you made choking—goddamn, pup!"</p><p>Malcolm closes his eyes, yet again pretending it's Gil.</p><p>It's getting less effective every time. </p><p>Vic thumbs his head with every stroke, swiping precome away as it leaks out. Malcolm feels himself getting closer and closer, and he presses his face against Vic's neck. "Please…"</p><p>"Please what? Gotta beg me right!"</p><p>"Sir!" Malcolm groans. "Sir, please...please let me come, oh—"</p><p>"Let it build up, puppy. Not just yet." He groans and bites Malcolm's ear, fucks into him harder as Malcolm squirms and writhes on him. His legs wrap tight around Vic's waist and he moans in pleasure and aggravation of being so desperate. </p><p>"That's it. We're gonna come together, puppy, alright? You can come when I do. Yeah? Alright...fuck, get ready...oh fuck...here it comes, puppy—"</p><p>He tilts his head back and howls as he comes deep in Malcolm, and Malcolm follows with a cry, his body bucking uncontrollable as Vic pins him up against the wall.</p><p>He slumps against Vic in exhaustion, shuddering with aftershocks. Vic pants hard into his neck for a while and then finally pulls himself out. Malcolm whimpers, feeling Vic's spend running out of his hole and down his thighs, and when he glances down he gasps because the come is mixed with blood as it trails his skin.</p><p>"I'm—"</p><p>"Poor puppy," Vic says. "Just a little bleeding. They really went hard on you with those toys, didn't they? You'll be fine."</p><p>Malcolm starts to cry, and Vic coos and kisses him on the lips and then picks him up again. </p><p>He takes Malcolm to the showers, cuffing his wrist to the wall to hold him on his feet more than prevent an escape, and turns the water on just a drizzle. He wets his hand and then starts lathering soap over Malcolm's body.</p><p>By now Malcolm's crying is only sniffling. He's too tired to do much else. The touch doesn't feel good, but it doesn't feel bad either. His muscles are sore and the way Vic massages makes them feel a little better. He hates himself for that. </p><p>Vic pushes a finger up into him, and Malcolm cries out.</p><p>“Don’t…"</p><p>"I know you're hurting, puppy, don't worry. I'm just getting you all squeaky clean like I'm supposed to. You know, we’re not supposed to come in the boys...but you won’t tell anyone, will you? Because you know I’d have to hurt you <em> real </em>bad if you did, right? Worse than I have yet. And we were just starting to be friends…”</p><p>Malcolm doesn’t find the strength to glare. He just shakes his head and leans forward and doesn't argue again. </p><p>“Good boy. Perfect boy. Our little secret, then.” Vic finishes up and then steps back to turn the water on, and Malcolm is shivering when it turns off. Vic dries him with a towel and then throws him over his shoulder again. Malcolm hopes he's being brought back to Gil. </p><p>"You thirsty, puppy?" Vic asks as he walks.</p><p>"Yes…sir."</p><p>"Getting to be such a good boy already. So good for us. We’re gonna get you some water, okay? Gonna play a little game for it.”</p><p>He sets Malcolm down on the floor of another room, with Gil still no where to be seen. He worries he won’t see him again, even though he knows they’re here to be used against each other. “Stay right there. Hands and knees.”</p><p>Malcolm obeys, positioning himself as he’s wanted and then groans as his stomach flips over again, bringing one of his arms up to press against his mouth.</p><p>“You’re withdrawing, aren’t you? Didn’t figure you a junkie, but I seen it enough.” </p><p>“I take medications,” Malcolm says. He hears Vic clattering things behind him but he doesn’t dare look back. “I need them. It’s dangerous for me to go without them.” </p><p>“You’ll be fine. Few weeks and you’ll be back to normal. But I think...if you keep being a good boy...I can give you a little something to make you feel better. Keep you from puking so much anyway.” </p><p>More drugs. Malcolm doesn’t want more drugs. “No.”</p><p>“Guess I'll ask again when you're really feeling bad.” Vic comes back around to his front and sets a bowl of water on the floor beneath his head. “Drink, puppy.”</p><p>Malcolm scowls. Vic grasps his hair and pushes his head down.</p><p>“Drink,” he orders. </p><p>Quietly, defeated, Malcolm starts to lap up the water with his tongue. </p><p>“Goddamn. So pretty.” Vic runs a hand over his back, and Malcolm grunts, pulling back to speak before Vic pushes on his head again.</p><p>“Drink it all. Don’t stop. Rules of the game are keep your head down and your little body still or next time you get water it’ll be when you’re dying from needing it.”</p><p>Malcolm is obedient. He drinks, wincing when he feels sick from it, and then gasps and chokes on a mouthful as Vic is suddenly clasping something around his waist. He jerks, trying to move away, and Vic keeps him in place with a strong arm wrapped around his chest.</p><p>“Shush, puppy. Let me.” </p><p>“What—” Malcolm stops and cries out instead when Vic grasps his member. </p><p>“Take a deep breath. This might hurt a little.” Then without warning he pushes something <em> into </em>Malcolm’s slit, something cold and hard and painful, and Malcolm screams, trying to kick out. </p><p>“Stop moving! You really wanna find out what kind of injuries you can get from this thing?”</p><p>Malcolm stops moving, gasping for air, and looks down to watch Vic insert the metal sound completely into him, fitting the cage it’s connected to around his cock. Something presses into his ass, and he cries out and isn’t any more relieved to find it isn’t Vic but a plug. </p><p>The belt clicks into place, a padlock clasping shut, and Vic shoves Malcolm forward. Malcolm scrambles away into the corner and tugs at the contraption but it doesn’t budge.</p><p>“Yeah, you’ll need this,” Vic says, holding up a key, smirking, and then putting it in his pocket. “And you’re not going to get it.”</p><p>“What is...this?”</p><p>Vic scoffs. “It’s a chastity belt, puppy. Don’t tell me no one’s ever locked up that pretty prick of yours! Really?”</p><p>Malcolm still pulls on it, fitting his fingers between his skin and the metal and whimpering. He’s been in one before, but not like this. It hadn’t had a sound and it hadn’t had a plug, and he hadn't been <em>forced </em>into it, and he doesn’t like how this feels.</p><p>“It hurts,” he says, touching the cage gently, and Vic laughs.</p><p>“I think it’ll hurt a lot more if you try to pull it out, so I wouldn’t. Just let it be, puppy. I’ll let you out eventually, but...we’ve got some plans for you later.”</p><p>Malcolm leans forward on his hands and groans. More? He can’t take any more.</p><p>“Oh, my puppy’s sleepy, isn’t he? Don’t worry. You’re going to get to nap first.” He points at the water bowl still by his feet, and Malcolm slowly crawls forward. It hurts to move. The sound is horribly uncomfortable inside him, and the plug is rubbing against already sore and raw muscle. </p><p>“Drink, puppy.”</p><p>“But,” he protests, "...what if—"</p><p>“If what?"</p><p>Malcolm groans. "What if I need the bathroom?"</p><p>"<em>We </em> choose what you do and when," Vic says. "Not you. So if you deserve a piss, you'll get one. Easy as that. Now <em> drink </em>before you make me get violent with you again."</p><p>Malcolm drinks up the rest of the water, and Vic picks him up again.</p><p>"Please," he groans, sliding a hand between his cheeks.</p><p>"That hurts real bad, huh? It'll come out soon, don't you worry."</p><p>He's carried down another hall. He feels sleepier than he did a few minutes before, but he's relieved the nausea has eased.</p><p>Vic rubs his ass as he walks. "Goddamn... fucking irresistible little thing."</p><p>Malcolm whines. "I'm…I'm…"</p><p>"A little tired? Yeah...it'll do that. Bet your tummy feels better though…"</p><p>Drugged again. He groans, and Vic slides him down to carry him in his arms, kissing him hard. "Fuck, puppy...your <em> noises…</em>"</p><p>Malcolm sniffs and tries to silence himself in fear of starting anything else up again. Vic finally goes through another door, and Malcolm hears:</p><p>"Bright!"</p><p>"Gil," he whimpers, and Vic drops him down onto a mattress. Gil grabs him, bringing him close, and Malcolm can only lay against him. </p><p>Gil sees the belt. He mutters under his breath, pulls on it, and then glares up at Vic and the man who'd brought Gil here after shocking him so long he was unable to move and then forcing water down his throat. </p><p>"The hell is this?" he demands, and Vic tsks. </p><p>"Stupid, the both of you. Shut up and wait there."</p><p>And then they're gone. They lock the door, and though Gil gets up to search the room there's once again no escape. He comes back, gathering up Malcolm in his arms again. He <em> knows </em> what the belt is, and he sees that pieces of it are inside Malcolm. He doesn't feel right looking at Malcolm's privates but he inspects the metal around the boy, looking for some way to get it off of him. </p><p>There is none. It's just another violation for his poor Malcolm in every way that Gil can't do anything about.</p><p>Malcolm curls against Gil, warm and safe and almost happy. Gil pets his hair and kisses his forehead.</p><p>"It's okay, kid. All okay. I gotcha." </p><p>Malcolm naps for sometime. He only jolts awake to the feel of the plug being shifted from Gil moving him around and bumping against it. </p><p>Gil is breathing a little harder. Malcolm doesn't think anything of it, too tired, and falls asleep again.</p><p>He wakes, feeling a little better, when Gil puts him down on the bed and rolls away from him to the other side.</p><p>"...Gil? Are you okay?" </p><p>"I feel hot," Gil says, and he sounds unusually panicked. </p><p>Malcolm is about to ask what Gil means when he hears Gil moan, and he looks down to find Gil with his hand rubbing himself.</p><p>"Okay," Malcolm says, taking a moment. "What...are you doing?"</p><p>"I don't know," Gil replies, moaning again. "Damn it. I'm...I think…I think they—"</p><p>"They drugged you, too…" With something clearly much different. "Gil…"</p><p>"Oh my god…" Gil gasps, turning onto his stomach and rutting down against the mattress. "Hnh…"</p><p>Malcolm is embarrassed by how much the noises Gil is making turns him on. He can't get hard though, and it's uncomfortable enough to make him wince as he twitches in the cage.</p><p>He tries to think through the haze and arousal, sitting up. He lists off things it could be before Gil shuts him up by gasping, "<em> Malcolm." </em></p><p>"Yes?" he asks quiet. </p><p>"Gah…Malcolm…<em>kid</em>…I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't...huh…"</p><p>Malcolm gets closer to him, and Gil is giving off actual feverish heat.</p><p>"Can I touch you?"</p><p>"Please...no. No Malcolm...I'm so…"</p><p>Malcolm does it anyway. He fits himself up to Gil's side, and Gil cries out, immediately turning to start to rock against him. </p><p>"Bright, hngh, <em> go—</em>"</p><p>"I want to help you," Malcolm says, reaching down between Gil's legs, and Gil bites down on the back of his hand to stifle a scream. "Let me."</p><p>"Bright, please…please...oh god Bright..."</p><p>He sounds like he's protesting but the second Malcolm's hand closes around his cock he's wrapping his arms around him to pull him closer. "Malcolm! Fuck…"</p><p>"Let me," Malcolm says again, and kisses Gil before he can respond. Gil moans into his mouth, and Malcolm starts to stroke him as they rock together. </p><p>"Bright!" Gil says, grasping at him harder. "Bright, please, god…ahh…more, please…"</p><p>Malcolm moans. He's never heard Gil beg for anything before, especially not his touch. Gil had been wet from precome he'd been leaking even before Malcolm had touched him, and now Malcolm's hand is slicked in it. Again and again his cock strains against the metal, and his desperation comes out in grunting that only seems to make Gil get louder.</p><p>The door opens again, and Malcolm pulls away as Gil tries to get closer. The Master stands in the doorway, and Vic enters as well, standing in the corner with his arms crossed.</p><p>"My, look at him <em> squirm," </em>the Master says. "I heard he wasn't doing that so well earlier...he seems not to be having any trouble now."</p><p>"This is punishment?" Malcolm asks, and the Master laughs. </p><p>"That...and entertainment." </p><p>He points up, and Malcolm looks at a camera he hadn't noticed sticking out from the wall, blinking red and pointed directly at them. There's a second at a closer angle beside the bed.</p><p>Malcolm flushes red. "You're…this is a live feed?"</p><p>"Of course it is." The Master slides a laptop out from under his arm and takes a seat in the chair across from them, out of the camera's view. "He's about to get far worse, and I wouldn't let it happen without a well paying audience."</p><p>Gil gasps, and Malcolm looks over to find him coming over his hand. </p><p>It doesn't give any relief. Gil's covered in sweat and fucking <em> desperate, </em>starting to fist himself again when his erection and arousal don't fade. "Bright…" he moans. "Malcolm...hhn…"</p><p>"I'll let you have that one," the Master says. "I know you're not thinking clear. But if you come again without asking, <em> boy, </em>I'll give you another dose. Stop touching yourself."</p><p>Gil curls up, still thrusting into his hand, and then manages to pull it away, clenching it in the blanket beneath him. "Plea—please!"</p><p>The Master smiles at him. "No." He looks at Vic. "Cuff him."</p><p>Vic approaches them, grabs Gil's hands, and cuffs his wrists above him to the headboard. Gil ruts up against him before gasping in horror, and Vic laughs, touching a finger to Gil's cock and making him cry out.</p><p>"Wanna give the puppy this next," he murmurs, and the Master chuckles.</p><p>"We'll see. Now. <em> Gil</em>. I know you remember our chat. You would be punished if you couldn't come. And that's what this is. I'm simply forcing it out of you. You're going to come until you're dry, and then likely have one or two more agonizingly unsatisfactory orgasms, and then you're going to sleep for a <em> very </em> long time. You won't get to touch yourself. Only our little Malcolm will."</p><p>"No," Gil says even as he ruts his hips up and squirms. "No. I won't—I won't hurt him, you can't—"</p><p>"Well, you won't be fucking him. This is punishment, and that ass...well, it's a reward you simply don't deserve yet. All in due time. You couldn't come into his mouth there, so you will do it here. And the baby boy is going to swallow it all down <em> obediently, </em>isn't he?"</p><p>Malcolm understands why he was drugged now, to get rid of his will to fight <em> and </em>his withdrawal nausea.</p><p>"Or Gil simply won't be touched at all. That drug hasn't even halfway kicked in yet, though...so he's going to be screaming with need soon if he's left untouched. Either way, our audience gets something. They paid good money to, after all."</p><p>Gil grits his teeth and groans, leaning his head back. Malcolm licks his lips and watches the movement of Gil's hard cock against his belly. He doesn't think he was given anything that Gil was, but he <em> is </em>horny. He thinks it's just from wanting Gil. </p><p>Then Vic takes something out of his pocket, a remote, and Malcolm flinches away, waiting for a shock that never comes. Instead he shrieks as the plug inside him suddenly starts to vibrate.</p><p>Gil seems to briefly come back to himself at the sound, looking at Malcolm with frightened eyes. "Bright? What's—"</p><p>"Oh fuck," Malcolm groans, leaning over the rest his forehead against the bed. "Gil…"</p><p>"<em>Bright…" </em> Gil tries to reach for him, prevented by the cuffs. "Jesus...f-<em>fuck</em>, I need…"</p><p>Malcolm reaches over, sliding his hand up from Gil's thigh to his hip and squeezing hard, and Gil gasps for air. His mind blanks, and he doesn't know anything anymore aside from how much he <em> needs to be touched, </em>and only by Malcolm.</p><p>"Bright! Oh god…<em>please…</em>"</p><p>Malcolm whines, getting up close to him again, and grasps his cock. Gil cries out, then again as Malcolm starts to stroke him.</p><p>"Use your mouth," the Master orders, and Malcolm doesn't hesitate getting between Gil's legs as Gil spreads them wider for him, licking a long stripe up from Gil's shaft to the head. </p><p>Gil nearly comes again. Nothing has ever felt better than Malcolm's hand, than Malcolm's <em> tongue</em>, and it's going to kill him. "<em>Malcolm!</em>"</p><p>"Oh, <em> Gil… </em>" Malcolm licks him again, then takes the tip into his mouth and suckles for a moment before taking more. "Ghnnn…"</p><p>Gil is incoherent above him, yanking at the handcuffs and making the headboard in creak. Malcolm forgets about the cameras, the men here and on the feed, because Gil is making such beautiful noises and it's <em> all </em>thanks to him, his mouth, he's—</p><p>"So <em> talented</em>," the Master says, and Malcolm pulls off with a shudder. Gil thrusts up to find the warmth he's lost, no longer thinking at all.</p><p>Vic chuckles. The level of the vibration is suddenly increased, and Malcolm doubles over, face pressed into Gil's thigh as he moans and writhes. </p><p>"Suck," the Master says. Malcolm takes Gil into his mouth again and Gil bucks up so hard it chokes him.</p><p>"Sorry—sorry, Bright—ahh, God, can't—need you—"</p><p>Malcolm's cheeks are red-hot, and he desperately takes Gil down to the base again, then back. Gil writhes, calling out, "Please just—oh, please<em>—</em>need to— <em> " </em></p><p>"Need to what, boy? I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."</p><p>Gil's sense isn't working. The drug has completely overwhelmed anything else. He bucks into Malcolm's mouth again and cries, "Come! Please—just let me!"</p><p>The Master smiles. "No. Pull off, little boy."</p><p>Malcolm does slowly, a line of spit connecting from Gil's head to his lips, and he slides one leg over Gil's knee and starts rubbing himself down, groaning in frustration.</p><p>Vic increases the level again, and Malcolm cries out, biting down on his hand. "Oh god…"</p><p>Gil trembles, still rocking up against the air, and the Master whistles.</p><p>"You two really look good like this. Your patron thinks so, too…"</p><p>"<em>Patron?</em>" Malcolm grunts.</p><p>"Of course. He wanted to see the progress we're making with you two...he can't wait to have a taste of his own."</p><p>Malcolm glares at the camera. He tries to look tough as he can while he's this desperate. "<em>Endicott. </em> I swear I'll—ahh!"</p><p>Vic spanks him, cutting him off and then pulling him close.</p><p>"Be good, puppy, or that cage'll never come off, and you'll never come again."</p><p>Malcolm growls at him but it turns into a whimper of need when Vic spanks him twice more, forcing the plug to rub harder against his prostate. "Fuck!"</p><p>"<em>Fuck!</em>" Gil echoes him even louder, trying to bring Malcolm closer with his legs.</p><p>"Suck on him again, little boy," the Master orders, and Malcolm forgets his anger once Gil is in his mouth, sucking hard and making it as good as he can for Gil, <em> only </em>for Gil, not for any of the rest of them.</p><p>Only when Gil is begging, when Malcolm can feel him swelling in his mouth as he gets to the verge of orgasm even without permission, does the Master command:</p><p>"<em>Come</em>." </p><p>Gil screams, shoving into Malcolm's mouth as he does. It chokes Malcolm, dripping out his mouth, but he swallows what he can, moaning. It feels so good and he still can't get hard. Every moment he feels more desperate, but knows with the sound inside of him he wouldn't be able to come anyways. It hurts, and he wants it out. He wants to <em> come. </em></p><p>He remembers Nicholas is watching, and he pulls off Gil's still-hard dick with a grimace. </p><p>"You're not done," the Master says. "Not until I say you are. Keep sucking."</p><p>Malcolm is obedient. He takes Gil back into his mouth and eventually swallows down the bare amount that comes from his third orgasm.</p><p>"I can't," Gil starts moaning, "please—stop, make it stop!"</p><p>"I'm afraid I can't do that," the Master says. "You just have to go through it…and remember it next time you're having difficulty."</p><p>Gil has never been more exhausted, more in pain, and even though his body is reacting as though it wants more it <em> hurts</em>. He's sensitive and aching in Malcolm's mouth, and he throws his head back and screams as he falls over a fourth time.</p><p>Nothing comes out of Gil this time, and Malcolm swipes his tongue over Gil's head before pulling off, licking his lips. He's so tired and his stomach is full of <em> Gil</em>, which only turns him on <em> more </em>and makes him curse in anger because there's nothing he can do about it.</p><p>The plug keeps vibrating, and Malcolm drops his head down, whining.</p><p>A hand runs down his back. "Come on, puppy. Sleepy time soon, okay? You've got people watching…perk up a bit, huh?" </p><p>"Need…" he mumbles, and Vic hums.</p><p>"I know you need. We all can see. It's beautiful."</p><p>"I didn't say you were done," the Master says. "<em>Suck. </em> You don't even have to worry about swallowing anymore."</p><p>"Please…" Gil moans. He's limp against the bed, even as his hips keep rocking up. "No more...I can't take more…" </p><p>"You'll take whatever you're given. Keep going, boy. The only way to make it stop is to keep going. He'll pass out eventually." </p><p>"Sorry," Malcolm says, rubbing Gil's thighs to comfort him as he takes him down again, and Gil suddenly begins to cry.</p><p>"Malcolm, stop," he begs, "stop, it hurts so much, <em> please…</em>"</p><p>Malcolm whimpers. He feels like he's abusing Gil himself, and it makes him feel sick even through the drugs, even though there's no choice. His lips are swollen and bruised, his mouth numb, but he tries to help Gil through it.</p><p>"I <em> can't— </em> " Gil whines, pulling hard enough on his wrists that the headboard creaks. "Please...I'll do anything, just <em>please</em>…"</p><p>"I think you've got one more," the Master says. "Oh...your patron says <em> two. </em> We can't disappoint him, now can we?"</p><p>Gil can't do anything to resist. Even his body stops moving in his exhaustion, just twitches and shudders to the movements of Malcolm's mouth and tongue. Malcolm scrapes his teeth against him, probably on accident, and it makes him sob.</p><p>"Sor...y," Malcolm mumbles around him. The drug doesn't let Gil relax, and eventually it wrings the most painful climax he's ever felt out of him. His muscles contract, and his body screams in protest, and Malcolm groans. Gil doesn't have the capability to think about him, or even himself. His eyes slide closed, and then Vic is slapping him awake again.</p><p>"Not yet," the Master says. "One more."</p><p>"Can't…" he whispers. "Please…"</p><p>The Master smiles. "You have to. Little Malcolm, push one of your fingers up into him, won't you?"</p><p>Malcolm squeezes his legs together, whimpering. He can hardly think of anything but now badly he needs to come, hating how turned on he is by every touch and sound. </p><p>Gil isn't making very many anymore. He's barely conscious, panting through an open mouth, and his eyes don't find Malcolm's when Malcolm looks up at him.</p><p>He looks completely fucking <em> wrecked, </em>and Malcolm whimpers louder. </p><p>Vic grabs his hand, squeezing lubricant onto his fingers. "Look so good with dick in your mouth," he says, guiding Malcolm's hand even as it starts to shake down between Gil's cheeks.</p><p>Malcolm's fingertip touches Gil's rim, and he gasps, focusing back down on Malcolm. His boy has tears running down his pink face, his lips bright red and swollen as they stay around him. He's thankfully not moving his tongue right now, and Gil just isn't sure he's going to survive if Malcolm starts again. It <em> hurts. </em>He's only half hard now, but he's still feeling tinges of arousal through him.</p><p>Malcolm's finger pushes in, and Gil whimpers. Malcolm finds his prostate and starts to gently rub it. </p><p>"Do better," the Master says. "You're really going to have to work for this last one. But we're confident you can do it."</p><p>Malcolm grunts. Vic cups his ass, adjusting the vibration again, and Malcolm moans, takes Gil down into his throat and gags himself on it in his own arousal. Gil tastes so good…he needs to come, he <em> has </em>to. </p><p>"Please…" he mumbles, pulling off from Gil for a second, and Vic fists his hair.</p><p>"I know you're horny, puppy, but it's not about you right now. You're not going to come. We're saving you up. Just think about how good it's going to feel when you do and finish him up. Then you can sleep."</p><p>He wants to sleep. He <em> needs </em>to come. Knowing he isn't allowed is both a curse and a blessing. He never wanted to come for them in the first place, and now he can't. It's saving him further humiliation. </p><p>After enough touch, enough of Malcolm running his tongue over Gil's cock, Gil starts to pant and squirm. He starts to beg to stop, and cries when they force Malcolm not to.</p><p>Malcolm adds another finger, rubs the bundle buried inside Gil a little harder, and Gil throws his head back. Distantly he can feel something like an orgasm approaching, but it hurts. He doesn't want to. He can't. The last had nearly killed him. </p><p>His heart pounds in his chest. Malcolm moans around him, rutting against his leg again. Gil rocks down against Malcolm's fingers, starting to whimper with every breath he exhales.</p><p>"There we go," the Master encourages. "Just like that, now, boys. Just like that." </p><p>Gil feels it <em> burning </em> in his belly, and while he has no real strength he still manages to thrust up weakly into Malcolm's mouth. "Bright...<em>Bright…fuck…"</em></p><p>Malcolm mumbles something and groans again. He strokes Gil's base, twisting his hand as he sucks on the head, and tears pour down Gil's cheeks. </p><p>"Malcolm—<em> Christ—" </em></p><p>"Real close now," the Master says. "You're both being so good for us. For <em> him. </em> Come on, boy. Pick up the pace." </p><p>Malcolm obeys. He can't do anything else. He speeds up the bobbing of his head, fists Gil a little faster, massages his prostate a little harder. Gil writhes under him, gasping for air and babbling pleads as he gets closer.</p><p>"Can't—oh my ghh<em>—god,</em> please<em>—Malcolm, </em>I—"</p><p>Malcolm looks up at him. His crystal blue eyes meet Gil's, and Gil sees so much lust and <em>need</em> in them that it brings him right to the edge.</p><p>It hurts, he can't, he <em> can't— </em></p><p>"Malcolm—"</p><p>"God, Gil," Malcolm moans, pulling off for a moment to speak, never breaking eye contact. "Fuck, please, c<em>-come </em>for me."</p><p>He takes Gil down again, all the way, shoves his fingers deep, and Gil screams as orgasm takes him, thrashing against the sheets. It shouldn't feel like this, shouldn't ever be this intense and painful and <em> aching </em> so deep in his body. He's never felt anything like it, and this worked to their advantage because he will do <em>anything</em> to never feel it again. His vision blacks out, and he feebly hears himself call out for Malcolm, and then finally he falls back, goes limp, his head dropping onto the pillows as he mercifully loses consciousness.</p><p>Malcolm pulls off. He removes his fingers and slumps against Gil, head against his belly, panting for air. </p><p>The vibration inside him finally stops. Vic strokes his soaked hair and down his back.</p><p>"Such a good puppy…relax, it's over…can take you back to sleep now."</p><p>"A <em> very </em>good boy," the Master agrees. "Both of you. You made him come with your words...and you'll only get better at it here. You've made him very happy."</p><p>Malcolm's arousal is fading fast, and it leaves him completely out of energy, eyes struggling to close. He finds the camera, glares straight into it, and mumbles, "Fuck you."</p><p>After a moment, the Master laughs.</p><p>"What'd he say?" Vic asks, because Malcolm can't find his voice.</p><p>"He said," the Master replies, "'<em>I can't wait to.'" </em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Some training for the boy 😇</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Malcolm falls in and out of consciousness. Vic is swiping a wet rag over his chin and neck and chest, then carrying him, and then dropping him down against the cot.</p><p>He moans for Gil, unable to lift his head, watching as another man hauls Gil in and onto his own cot. He wants to get up to cuddle him but he can't.</p><p>The metal chafes at his thighs with every movement. He whines, struggling to find relief, and Vic kisses him. </p><p>"Shush, puppy, or your whimpering's gonna get me going again." </p><p>Malcolm buries his face in his pillow. "I need the bathroom…"</p><p>"Hold it in. I've got prior engagements. You're unfortunately not the only one I can spend my time with. Don't you worry, though...I <em> will </em>be back for you." </p><p>Him and the other man leave, and are replaced by another figure that quietly comes into the room.</p><p>Malcolm frowns. A woman goes to stand over Gil. She reaches out to touch Gil, and Malcolm protests with a feeble noise. </p><p>She doesn't look at him. She finds Gil's pulse point in his neck, grabs his wrist to do the same.</p><p>"You're a doctor?" Malcolm asks. The one person that he could perhaps sway to get them out of here…</p><p>"I am," she says. "He's going to be fine. They use it on others. No lasting effects."</p><p>"Thank you," Malcolm says. He tries so soften his voice as much as he can. "Do you...think you could bring water? I'm so thirsty…" </p><p>She glances over at him, taking a syringe out of her pocket and flicking it before finding Gil's vein and injecting it. "That isn't what I'm here for."</p><p>"What was that?"</p><p>"For the headache. It won't be as bad when he wakes up. Trust me, he needs it."</p><p>"You're very kind," Malcolm says. "My name is Malcolm Bright." </p><p>"Sandra."</p><p>"Sandra…thank you." He tries to sit up and fails, sinking back down. "Sandra, I'm withdrawing from benzodiazepines. I'm going to get very sick. I'm already symptomatic, but I've been drugged to stop it. It won't last."</p><p>"Then I'll give you more," she says. "We've dealt with it before. They all survived. You will too."</p><p>Malcolm presses further. He needs to garner sympathy. "I’m in pain. I've thrown up a lot."</p><p>"Not right now." </p><p>"No."</p><p>"So medicating works. You'll have some night sweats and a hell of a headache, but you'll still be able to work."</p><p>"I don't want to work."</p><p>"You don't have a choice."</p><p>"I—Sandra, I don't want to be raped again," Malcolm begs, his voice shaking. "Please. I don't want <em> him </em>raped again, either. We're in pain. Everyone here is. How many men do you treat a day for beatings? Bleeding? You know this isn't right. You have to know that." </p><p>"You don't know what I know," she says. She's starting to get irritated, but Malcolm is desperate. He finally manages to prop himself up on an elbow, breathing hard.</p><p>"You're a doctor. My father was a doctor, too. He hurt people. But I see you like to help them. You're a good person. You're better than this, better than all of this, Sandra, I know you—"</p><p>He's cut off when she turns and backhands him hard enough to knock him down.</p><p>"You don't know me," she hisses, looming over him as he puts his shaking hand out to stop her from advancing. "You don't know a damn thing about me so don't pretend that you do. I know all about your daddy, Malcolm <em> Whitly.</em> I've never killed someone. That's <em> their </em> job. We are not the same. I'm here for my job, and you're here for yours. I'll keep you doped up enough not to puke your guts out the next few weeks, and you spread your legs and make money like you're supposed to. That's the best deal you have. Or I'll be treating you for a lot worse than withdrawal."</p><p>Malcolm nods. She looks like she might hit him again, and he braces for it, but then instead she leaves, shutting them inside again.</p><p>He licks his lip and tastes blood, then cries until he falls asleep again. This time he wakes up with a gasp. Not a night terror, but something similar. He wonders if the drugs will stop them, prays they will. He doesn't think they could possibly be scarier than what's happening in real life, but they’re not going to take kindly to his screams echoing through the building at all hours of the night. They’ll beat him for it, likely. He doesn’t want to be beaten. He doesn’t want to be put to <em> work. </em> </p><p>He knows it’s going to happen anyway, and that makes him cry again.</p><p>He tosses and turns, struggling to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep, but by now he’s desperate to relieve himself and his stomach is cramping with it. It's painful. He'd still rather die than have Vic come back to hurt him again.</p><p>He finally gives up, sliding off the cot and onto Gil's. He rests his head against Gil's chest, up against his side, and involuntarily starts to rock, letting out an aggravated moan. He needs to come so badly…</p><p>He tries to relax himself as best he can. Eventually the warmth Gil's giving off makes him drift, and when he wakes to the sound of the door opening he curls into himself, groaning.</p><p>Someone whistles, like they’re calling a dog. He knows what that means, and who made the noise before they ever speak.</p><p>“Little puppy…”</p><p>Malcolm hides his face against Gil, ignores Vic until he comes close and grabs Malcolm by the hair, forcing him off Gil's cot and throwing him back onto his own.</p><p>"How you doing, huh?" Vic asks, starting up the vibration of his plug, and Malcolm gasps and covers his face as it flushes hot. Vic runs his hands down Malcolm's chest, pausing to press against where his belly is swollen. Malcolm cries out, shaking his head. "Please…"</p><p>"Oh, no! My puppy's really gotta pee, doesn't he?" he asks, pressing down harder, and Malcolm whines. </p><p>"I know. I really made you wait, didn’t I? I'll let you out, but...I'm gonna need something from you first."</p><p>He pats over his member and rubs at it, grinning. "Gonna need you to take me down that pretty throat of yours, since your hole's full."</p><p>"No…" Malcolm says weakly, knowing he doesn't have a choice. Vic pushes down on his stomach again, taunting him with the pain, and Malcolm sits up with a cry.</p><p>"Get down on the floor, puppy. Come on.”</p><p>Malcolm obeys. There's nothing else he can do. It would be dangerous and stupid and possibly deadly to deny himself relief at this point, and the sound makes it impossible for him to let it out without Vic unlocking him, anyways. It would have to happen now or later, and he's already too full to imagine waiting any longer. </p><p>He takes Vic into his mouth, moaning in pain from the position and the arousal that overtakes him even as he digs his nails into his thighs.</p><p>"That's it...real good, puppy."</p><p>He sucks hard, rolling his tongue over and over, doing what he can to get it done with sooner. He clutches at his stomach with one hand and thinks he might have to impossibly go worse now, and then Vic grabs his hair and starts to fuck his mouth, cutting off his air.</p><p>Malcolm is terrified. He doesn't have Gil's hand to hold onto this time. Gil isn't even awake. It's only him as he chokes and struggles to breathe, and then as his lungs start to ache and he pushes against Vic's thighs.</p><p>"Ssh, puppy. Hold your breath. Fuck, you're so pretty...look at your face...so pink and pretty, puppy…"</p><p>He can't anymore. He strikes out harder, and Vic grabs his head and stills it.</p><p>"If you don't choke yourself out on me, <em> bitch,</em> I'll let your bladder fucking pop," Vic hisses. "Relax your throat. <em> Take me."</em></p><p>Malcolm doesn't have a choice. He’s not sure he would even if this wasn’t being used against him. He gags and chokes and lets Vic fuck him until the pain takes over his body and the world fades out.</p><p>He comes to on the floor. He takes in short desperate breaths, whimpering and coughing. Vic is sitting on his cot, recovering, grinning as he looks down at him.</p><p>"Damn, puppy...goddamn. <em> That </em>is what I should have been doing from the start. Shit." He tucks himself away, standing, and turns to go.</p><p>"<em>Sir,</em>" Malcolm moans, raspy. </p><p>"Oh, pretty puppy, I forgot why I was here! What did you need again?"</p><p>"Please, sir," Malcolm whispers. "I can't hold it. <em> Please</em>."</p><p>Vic smiles. He picks Malcolm up and tosses him over his shoulder again, and the pressure of it digging into his full bladder makes Malcolm scream.</p><p>"Shush. Your Gil's trying to sleep."</p><p>Malcolm can't stop squirming, and it gets worse as Vic sets him down to stand in front of a toilet.</p><p>"Go ahead, puppy."</p><p>"Let me out!" Malcolm gasps, tugging at the cage.</p><p>"That's right...you can't. Silly me! Now where did I put that key…"</p><p>He pats down his clothes, and Malcolm leans over with his arms wrapped around his aching stomach. "Please, <em> please,</em> it hurts. Please."</p><p>"Hmm...can't seem to find it…"</p><p>"Sir…" Malcolm braces himself on the toilet seat, sobbing. "<em>Please.</em>"</p><p>"Oh, puppy. Shush. You're a good boy. Just hold on a little longer."</p><p>Malcolm <em> can't. </em> He's going to explode. "Please! I just—I <em> can't—" </em></p><p>Vic wraps his arms around him and pulls him back up to stand straight, back against his chest. He sticks the key into the lock at Malcolm's waist, opens the cage, and then slowly slides the sound out.</p><p>Malcolm cries out, then slumps against Vic as he finally finds his relief, whimpering. </p><p>Vic kisses at his neck. "Good boy...let it all out."</p><p>Malcolm groans. More than a minute later when he's finally empty, shivering from the strain of it all, Vic grasps his cock and Malcolm is almost instantly hard and desperate. </p><p>"You could come so easy right now," Vic says. "Just a few touches is all it'd take."</p><p>Then he releases him, and Malcolm whines. As disgusting as it is he wants more. </p><p>"Relax. Soften up, puppy. You're saving that for later."</p><p>Malcolm can't, so Vic drags him to the shower and douses him in cold water until his erection fades. He then slips the sound back in and fits the cage back on before locking the belt again.</p><p>Malcolm is exhausted. He doesn't fight when Vic dries him off, kissing at his neck and back as he does before finally carrying him back to the room.</p><p>"Real soon," he says, dropping Malcolm on the bed, leaning over to kiss him rough until his lips hurt. "Just gotta wait a few more hours. It'll feel so good, I promise."</p><p>The moment Vic leaves, Malcolm curls beside Gil again. More relaxed now, he’s able to sleep a little better, a little longer. Even when he wakes again Gil hasn’t moved, and he starts petting Gil’s face, stroking his hair, murmuring to him. </p><p>“Please,” he says. “I can’t do this without you.”</p><p>It’s selfish. Gil is better off unconscious. They can’t hurt him like this. </p><p>But Malcolm is scared. He’s <em> lonely, </em>and he just needs Gil to hold him tight and lie to him that everything will be okay. </p><p>Sometime later, he’s startled awake by the door opening. Before he can fully come to he’s been forced up, his feet skidding across the tile as he’s dragged forward. He knows it isn’t Vic, knows he would have been carried and already groped if it was. This touch is methodical. There’s still men he hasn’t even been subjected to that work for this ring, and that scares him.</p><p>He’s brought to the same room they’d been in before, but instead of Gil on the bed it’s Vic, casually sitting up against the headboard with his shirt off, his pants unbuttoned but still on. He smirks, waving at him, and Malcolm’s thrown onto the foot of the bed before the man shuts the door again.</p><p>“What—” Malcolm says, and then he’s grabbed yet again, his hair yanked back, exposing his neck as a hand wraps around it. </p><p>“Ssh, pet,” the Master murmurs. “It’s time for some training.”</p><p>“Training?” Malcolm chokes out, and the Master presses his face into Malcolm’s neck, breathing deep. </p><p>“Mmm. Yes, little boy. You’re going to need to earn your keep, your meals. You’re hungry, aren’t you? Your Gil must be, too. Do good here, and you’ll be eating dinner tonight.”</p><p>Malcolm glares at the camera closest to him. The red light is on. “He’s watching.”</p><p>“Of course he is. Others, too. You were so popular yesterday, little one. Who am I to deny extra donations? Our training isn’t <em> usually </em> broadcasted, but you’re so...mmm. So special.” He releases him, pushing him towards Vic, and Vic drags him up to straddle his waist.</p><p>It’s not Malcolm’s fault that his body is so needy for touch, but he’s still ashamed when he ruts down against Vic, feeling him grow hard underneath him. It disgusts him that he’s making the man feel good. </p><p>“Shit, puppy...so <em> squirmy</em>...you want me in you that bad, huh?”</p><p>Malcolm opens his mouth to curse in response but instead moans as Vic grasps his hips and rocks up against him. </p><p>“Behave, puppy. You’re gonna learn to ride cock like a good boy.”</p><p>“No,” Malcolm grunts, but when Vic pulls him down to kiss him he moans again, louder. Vic then takes the key out of his pocket, unlocks the belt, and starts slipping the pieces out of him. Malcolm leans his head back, grimacing, and then Vic pushes his pants down, rolls a condom onto himself, and fits his length up to Malcolm’s hole.</p><p>“That plug kept you so nice and open for me, didn’t it?” he asks, forcing Malcolm to sink down onto him, and Malcolm groans. </p><p>“Oh god…”</p><p>“Yeah. That’s right. Feels real good, doesn’t it? Oh, you got hard so fast...you’re so desperate, aren’t you?”</p><p>Malcolm nods, gasping, jerking his hips down to fill himself up faster.</p><p>"That's it. Just like that. You’re gonna remember how this feels, and do this with everyone. Doesn’t matter if you’ve been on a dozen dicks that hour. This is how you’re going to treat them.”</p><p>“You’ll do it slower,” the Master says. “Tease them. Make them want you more. If they want to fuck you, they will, but if they want you to ride them, that’s where you need practice. It’s an art form, really. That’s what we’re here to teach you.”</p><p>“Fuck you,” Malcolm grumbles, and the Master chuckles.</p><p>“I'm waiting my turn. Slide up and down a few times on him. Go on.”</p><p>Malcolm can't help it. Pent up arousal makes his body shake and whines fall from his mouth as he starts to fuck himself down.</p><p>"Ah ah," the Master says, "remember. You’re here for <em> his </em> pleasure. Not your own. It doesn't matter how it feels for you."</p><p>"I—ahh—need," Malcolm gasps out, and Vic grabs his hips to still him. </p><p>"No. I know you're needy, puppy, but you don't come until your customer gives you permission. And you <em> definitely </em> don't come until they do."</p><p>"Your job is to make <em> them </em> feel good, little boy. With your hole, your mouth, or your hands, you're here for <em> them.</em>" </p><p>"Fuck you," Malcolm grunts, and then sneers at the camera. "Fuck you! You're sick! You're disgusting! You're—"</p><p>Vic snaps his hips up, rams himself deep, and Malcolm cries out, his head falling back as he can't think enough to finish the threat.</p><p>"Be nice, puppy, or I'll put you back in the cage."</p><p>"Get <em> out of me," </em>Malcolm shouts, and Vic squeezes his hips.</p><p>"You don't want that, puppy. You want to be good so you can come. <em> Be good."</em></p><p>"Tell him how good he feels," the Master says. "Only speak when you're trying to make it better for them."</p><p>Malcolm shakes his head, and Vic tsks. He drives himself up again, and Malcolm braces himself on Vic’s chest. “<em>Fuck!” </em></p><p>“Talk to me, puppy. Talk to me nice and this’ll feel <em> so </em>good for you. Beg me to fuck you.”</p><p>Malcolm still stubbornly refuses, gritting his teeth.</p><p>“Suppose a day wasn’t long enough, hmm?” the Master says. “We’ll put it back on for a week. Maybe two. See how you feel then.”</p><p>“How about we dose him while he’s in the cage,” Vic suggests. “I wonder how that’ll work...oh, can you imagine the fucking <em> sounds…” </em></p><p>“Please,” Malcolm begs. “Can’t…”</p><p>Vic rubs his hips, and Malcolm whimpers. </p><p>“You’re already so desperate, aren’t you, puppy? You want to come. Why don’t you let yourself? Your Gil’s not here...just us…” He thrusts into him a few times, grasps Malcolm’s cock, and Malcolm cries out. “Come on, puppy.”</p><p>“You’re making your Gil suffer, too,” the Master says. “He won’t eat until you do this. You think you can both last a week without food?”</p><p>Malcolm hangs his head, crying softly. “Please…”</p><p>“Then be good. I told you. If you’re good to us, we’ll be good to you.”</p><p>Defeated, Malcolm nods. He won’t let Gil suffer for his pride. He moans again, then forces himself to lift up and drop back down onto Vic. The sensation makes him gasp, and Vic pulls him closer.</p><p>“Attaboy,” Vic encourages, pressing into his bruises, and Malcolm tries not to protest.</p><p>“Speak, boy,” the Master says. “Tell him how good he feels inside you. How big he is. Flatter your customers, and they’ll be done with you faster.”</p><p>“You feel...good,” Malcolm says quietly, and Vic bares his teeth. </p><p>“Fuck yeah I do, puppy. Come on. More."</p><p>Malcolm’s cheeks flush in shame. He knows the things to say, what he’s said to others before, but the words don’t want to come, not here, not now. “You’re...b-big. Real big.”</p><p>“Yeah? My cock just fills your tight little pussy up, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“Yes,” Malcolm says. He rocks down again, letting his body seek out pleasure as it wants to. “Ah, <em> fuck...</em>sir…”</p><p>Vic holds his hips so tight it’s going to leave marks. “Yeah. That’s it. Tell me how fucking wet you are for me.”</p><p>“So wet,” Malcolm almost automatically replies, and Vic rewards him with a deep thrust. “God!”</p><p>“More, puppy. Come on. Fuck, come <em> on. </em>”</p><p>“I want to—feel you.” Malcolm slowly rocks down, and then a little faster, moaning. “Oh...feel you come in me, sir.” </p><p>“<em>That’s </em> more like it,” the Master purrs. “That’s good, boy. Keep that up. <em> Ride </em>him, now. Keep talking.”</p><p>“Want to make you come.” Malcolm groans, starting to bounce, and once he starts he can’t stop. “Fuck...oh, sir...oh, <em> sir...</em>please…”</p><p>Vic moans louder, grasping his hair to kiss him. “Fuck, puppy, more. <em> More</em>.”</p><p>“You feel so good. You feel—so good, sir. Please, more. Please.” He thrusts himself down again and again, edging into orgasm, and his voice becomes shrill. “Fuck! Sir! Sir, please, oh my—”</p><p>“Don’t come,” the Master orders. “Hold it in.”</p><p>Malcolm knows he won’t be able to obey like he may have if he hadn’t had so much desperation built up already. Even when Vic squeezes his cock to stop him from coming it barely takes the edge off, and he fucks himself down harder, faster. </p><p><br/>
“Sir, please—please come in me. Please. <em> Please come. </em> ” He’s begging for <em> him</em>, not Vic, wants to end it and get what he needs out of it, but Vic doesn’t seem to notice or care, moaning loudly. </p><p>“Puppy—fuck—little more—”</p><p>Things start spilling from Malcolm’s mouth that he doesn’t want to say, that he’s said to others and never thought he would be <em> forced </em> to use to further his own assault. “Fuck, c-come, <em> fill me, </em> I want it, I want you, feels so  <em> good—</em>yes, yes, <em> yes—ah! Sir!" </em></p><p>Vic jerks up and holds Malcolm in a suffocating grip as he comes, gasping, and the friction of Malcolm’s cock against Vic’s belly and the way he pulses inside him, the thought of it being— </p><p>“<em>Gil!” </em>Malcolm gasps, involuntarily losing it over Vic.</p><p>“Oh, puppy," Vic tsks, and Malcolm moans, rubbing against him, wriggling his hips as he chases the waves of pleasure until they fade and he’s left slumped over Vic, gasping.</p><p>“Stupid boy,” the Master says. “Were you given permission?”</p><p>“No sir…” Malcolm whimpers, slowly realizing what he's done, what it could mean for him <em> and </em>Gil. Stupid body...betraying him again and again. “No Master…I’m...I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Can’t help just how good my cock is,” Vic says with a shrug, rubbing Malcolm’s back. “Poor puppy was bursting, wasn’t he? Hmm? At least he waited. Still...he needs to be punished.”</p><p>Malcolm squeezes his eyes shut. They made it impossible for him not to make a mistake. It's not his fault. They wanted this to happen. “I’m so sorry…” </p><p>“Sorry’s just not good enough, is it?” the Master asks. “Can’t take back your disobedience, now can you?”</p><p>“N...<em>no, </em> Master.”</p><p>“You’ve disappointed me. And your patron. I wonder what <em> he </em>would do to you...say you're sorry to him, boy."</p><p>Malcolm turns his head to look into the camera. "<em>Sorry,</em>" he growls. </p><p>"Still so much <em> fire," </em> Vic chuckles. "I fucking <em> love </em> it. Fuck." He grabs Malcolm's hair, yanking it to position Malcolm to kiss him. "Dumbass little slut. You're amusing as hell, you know that?"</p><p>"Ugh," Malcolm mumbles, disgusted, and Vic nips his lip with a smirk.</p><p>"Let me take him back, huh? I'll punish him <em> real </em> good."</p><p>The Master hums. "After."</p><p>Vic pulls out finally, pushing Malcolm down on the bed as he stands and Malcolm sits up. He wants to curse and shout at Endicott but he knows there's nothing good waiting for him if he does. Instead he settles a glare into the camera. </p><p>The Master slaps the back of his head, shoving him down again and mounting him. Malcolm closes his eyes.</p><p>"You didn't make enough noise," the Master says, entering him with a forceful thrust that makes Malcolm gasp. "You moaned so <em> good </em> for me last time. I'd like to hear that again."</p><p>Malcolm covers his face, and the Master snickers. </p><p>"Don't be shy, little boy. This is your job now. It's just the same as any other. Do good work and you get paid. You might even get rewarded. Trust me...you want to be on our good sides."</p><p>"There's a lot of nasty people out there," Vic says. "Behave and you'll get the good ones. Piss us off...we might just let <em> them </em> have you. You think <em> I </em> hurt you? Just wait until they get their hands on you."</p><p>"He <em> likes </em> hurting, too," the Master says, raking his nails down Malcolm's chest and eliciting a cry. "Little pain slut."</p><p>"I've noticed...naughty pup. You think people won't take advantage of that? You won't enjoy it anymore after a few times, I promise you that."</p><p>"We'll let <em> Gregory </em> take you."</p><p>Vic whistles sympathetically. "Goddamn, puppy. That really just <em> ain't </em> someone you want!"</p><p>Malcolm moans softly, and the Master grasps his throat, not to choke but a threat. "<em>Louder." </em></p><p>Malcolm bites down on his finger, but there's no point in fighting. He doesn't want to be hurt more. He doesn't want <em> Gil </em> to be hurt more. The Master thrusts into him hard, and he obediently moans out, "<em>Yes sir... </em>m-more."</p><p>"Getting there," the Master encourages. "Louder. Sell yourself. Your customers will like different things. You said your last job was to read people. That'll do you well. You want to make them enjoy themselves. The faster and better they come, the more they'll want to have you again. That's what we want."</p><p>Malcolm whimpers as the Master leans over him, crushing him with his weight, looking directly down at him. </p><p>"Make me come, boy. I want you to <em> try, </em>or your Gil is going to pay for it." </p><p>Malcolm takes a deep breath, resigning himself for the second time. He tries to forget Endicott and others are watching. He thinks of Gil, and what he would say to <em> him, </em>what he's always wanted to say to him.</p><p>"F-fuck me," he whispers, far too quietly, and bites his lip, letting his teeth drag on it. "Ahh...yes...please."</p><p>"You want it harder, boy?" the Master asks, and Malcolm nods.</p><p>"Master," he moans, "please. Fuck me harder. I—I need it. Please."</p><p>The Master smirks, reacting with harder movements, and Malcolm is relieved.</p><p>They're just words, aren't they?</p><p>"Y...yes, Master," he says, and leans his head back. "I—you feel—"</p><p>The Master slaps him. "Stop stuttering, boy! You're supposed to be turning them on, not off!"</p><p>They're just words. They're <em> just words. </em></p><p>"You feel so <em> good," </em>he finally forces out, moaning the lie out. "Oh, Master. Please give me more."</p><p>"<em>Not enough. </em> Last chance. <em> Impress me.</em>"</p><p>Malcolm closes his eyes as tears run down his face, and then opens them again. "You're so big in me," he groans. "Filling me up. Fuck, <em> please. </em>I need you, sir. I need your cock. I'm, ahh, so wet for you."</p><p>The Master thrusts into him deeply. "Better. Keep it up."</p><p>"Yes!" Malcolm gasps, though he felt <em> nothing. </em>"Right there, Master. Sir, please. Please, please, fuck me harder." He arches his back and drags a hand down his chest. He pretends it's Gil inside of him, that he wants more, that he never wants it to end, that he doesn't want to die of humiliation. "I'm so hard...it feels so good…"</p><p>"Give me more <em> noises,</em>" the Master says, and so Malcolm starts whimpering and whining with every thrust, watching as the man reacts to it.</p><p>He's done this before. Men have told him how good he is at it. </p><p>Maybe he was always meant to be this.</p><p>He squeezes his eyes shut and gasps, "Fuck! Master! You're so huge...so hot in me. I want you to come. I want to feel it. Please...<em>use me." </em></p><p>"Yeah? Just a hole to be fucked, aren't you?"</p><p>"Y-<em> yes sir. </em>Yes. I'm—made for this. Ahh...made for your cock."</p><p>"That's right. You're <em> nothing else. </em>" He fucks Malcolm faster, and Malcolm lets more noises fall from his mouth, crying out when the Master pushes closer and starts rubbing Malcolm's erection between them. </p><p>"Oh, <em> God, </em> that feels good," Malcolm breathes. "Yes, <em> please. </em> Fuck me so hard I c-can't walk, can't <em> breathe</em>."</p><p>The Master's hand settles on his throat again, and Malcolm grits out, "<em>Choke me.</em>"</p><p>The Master squeezes, and Malcolm's mouth falls open as he struggles to breathe. He has nothing to lose anymore. The pain is a <em> welcome </em>distraction. He wants it. Maybe he wants everything. Why not? It doesn't matter anymore anyway.</p><p>He ruts up, bounces himself down as the Master thrusts. His eyes find where Vic is off to the side, and he chokes out a moan and reaches for him. Vic's eyes go wide, and Malcolm <em> grins, </em>biting his lip again. </p><p>If they want him, they won't hurt him, right? If he's good. He just has to be <em> good</em>. </p><p>The Master releases him to gasp, and he's disgusted by the things he finds to say. "Please, oh my God, <em> harder. </em> I'm yours, take me. Gi—Master, I want you to <em> break </em> me, please. I'm so wet for you. Please—I'm a whore, I'm a slut, <em> your slut." </em></p><p>"Goddamn," Vic mutters, grabbing onto Malcolm's hand, and Malcolm moans again, squeezing Vic's fingers hard as the Master pounds into him. </p><p>"Y-yes! Harder, <em> deeper</em>, <em> please!</em>" </p><p>"That's fucking<em> good, </em>boy," the Master encourages. He reaches down, giving his cock a few strokes, and Malcolm yelps. </p><p>"Master! Please—I need more! Fuck me! Ahh! Please, I need to come..."</p><p>"Not for you. Tell <em> me </em>to come."</p><p>"Come in me! Claim me...I'm yours. Hhh...all yours, Master. All for you."</p><p>The Master grunts, and it only takes a few more thrusts for him to gasp and spill, and Malcolm squeezes himself around him.</p><p>"Yes, sir! Fill me up...fuck...just like that...feels so good, ahh…"</p><p>Vic drags Malcolm's hand down to wrap around his length, and Malcolm strokes it without needing to be told. "I'm meant for this," he mumbles. "Please...I want to make you come."</p><p>"Jesus, pup..."</p><p>"I knew he'd be a good one," the Master laughs breathlessly, pulling out, and Malcolm crosses his legs. </p><p>"Wish I felt you dripping out of me," he moans, and the Master looks <em> startled. </em></p><p>"Where's the switch I hit, boy? Fucking hell." </p><p>Vic pushes closer, grabbing Malcolm by the shoulders, and kisses him. "Fuck, I <em> need </em> him…"</p><p>"Take him," the Master says, and Vic grabs for another condom. </p><p>Malcolm wraps his legs around Vic's waist as he shoves in, and grasps onto Vic's arms. "Fuck me," he pleads. "Want it rough."</p><p>"I'll <em> give </em> it to you rough," Vic growls, slamming him up against the headboard with his next thrust. "Goddamn, puppy! How'd you get even <em> sexier? </em> You're so pretty...they're gonna love you."</p><p>Malcolm moans, taking the pain without complaint. "More...give me <em> more…</em>ruin me! Break me!"</p><p>Vic pounds into him, pinning him to the mattress. He's somehow rougher than he was the first time in the room, and Malcolm feels tears dripping down to his hair, and still he begs for more. He knows it's what he's supposed to do, and he does it for Gil. </p><p>And eventually, when he's brought to the verge of coming again, he does it for himself.</p><p>"Please, sir! You feel so good...I want to come. I want to come on your cock. Please let me, sir!"</p><p>"He's been good," the Master says, and Vic buries his face in Malcolm's neck. </p><p>"You can come with me, puppy. I'm so close—"</p><p>Malcolm moans into his ear, wrapping his arms around him, fucking himself down hard as he can. "Come in me, sir! I'm yours! Yours!"</p><p><em>"Mine,"</em> Vic growls, pulsing inside him with a cry, and Malcolm squirms, gets enough friction going on his own to orgasm.</p><p>He doesn't mean to, or maybe he does. But he finds himself looking into the camera before his eyes roll up and close as he falls over.</p><p>It doesn't register until after he comes back to himself, panting and still under Vic. Had he wanted the ones watching to want him? Had he wanted <em> Endicott </em>to want him? </p><p>Vic pulls out. Malcolm's head aches from where it repeatedly hit the board, and he curls into his side, rubbing where it hurts and shielding himself. </p><p>"Jesus," Vic mumbles. The Master is still breathing harder than usual.</p><p>"Did…" Malcolm dares to speak, swallowing hard. "Did I do good?" </p><p>Vic strokes down Malcolm's back, smacks his ass hard enough to make him gasp.</p><p>"Very good," the Master agrees. "You're going to do just fine."</p><p>Malcolm retches, though nothing comes up, and Vic picks him up in his arms.</p><p>"Puppy needs some more medicine," he says. </p><p>"Take him. Feed them both."</p><p>Malcolm's head lolls onto Vic's shoulder. He did good...he was good. Gil would be proud, wouldn't he? </p><p>Or would he be ashamed?</p><p>"Your patron wants you to know," the Master says, "how lovely it was to watch you break. Oh...and how pretty your eyes are when you come."</p><p>Malcolm whimpers softly. Vic rubs his ass and chuckles. </p><p>"Don't be embarrassed, puppy. You're gonna get even better at it after a while. Just going to take some time."</p><p>He brings Malcolm to the showers, cleans him just like before, and Malcolm flinches occasionally but doesn't protest. He just doesn't care. When he's dry, Vic takes him to the room he'd given him water in before, and Malcolm sees the sink and counter and shelves he hadn't noticed before. Nearly a full kitchen. </p><p>Vic gives him another bowl to drink from, and Malcolm downs it hoping there's more sedative in it than the last time.</p><p>"Good puppy. You're really getting good. It's beautiful to see. But...you did come without permission. That has to be punished <em> somehow. </em> You understand."</p><p>He fits the belt back onto Malcolm, and Malcolm still doesn't care, does nothing more than wince as the plugs are pushed in and the lock clicks shut. Vic praises him for it, kisses along his jaw and then steps away again. He heats something in the microwave, a cheap store bought dinner, and then sits at the table and peels it open, gesturing Malcolm forward. </p><p>"Come, puppy. Aren't you hungry?" </p><p>Malcolm crawls forward. He's not surprised when Vic takes a spoon and holds it out with clearly no intention to let Malcolm touch it himself.</p><p>"Open up," he says.</p><p>Malcolm doesn't know if he can really get any lower. He opens his mouth, and allows Vic to feed him. </p><p>"That's it...isn't that good, puppy? Yummy, right?" </p><p>"Yes sir," Malcolm mumbles. He leans to take each spoonful he's given, and then sags against Vic's knee when exhaustion nearly collapses him.</p><p>Vic hums, petting Malcolm's head, pulling his head back and giving him another bite. "Little more, puppy. Take what you're given."</p><p>"...Gil?" Malcolm asks, and Vic is far less gentle as he shoves the spoon into Malcolm's mouth, hitting his teeth.</p><p>"He'll get some, too, when he's up." He sounds...angry? No. He's <em> jealous.</em> "But then he's going to have to work his old ass for it."</p><p>He softens, cupping Malcolm's chin. "You keep being good, puppy, and you'll get more. You'll never go hungry. That's how it works around here. Keep being so <em> cute </em>to me and I might throw you a real treat every so often." </p><p>Malcolm parts his lips, looks up at him and blinks slow, and Vic pulls him up into his lap to kiss him.</p><p>So easily manipulated. Malcolm hadn't expected that. After his failure to get anywhere with him before, he'd lost hope.</p><p>But he wasn't using his body. He wasn't using what Vic wanted to Malcolm's own advantage.  </p><p>Vic tires eventually, breaks away, and Malcolm smacks his lips together and licks them. Vic watches, more than interested. </p><p>Malcolm's not sure what it can do right now...but it makes him feel just a small amount less helpless.</p><p>"I could be so good to you, puppy," Vic murmurs. "You're my favorite. You know that?"</p><p>"Thank you sir," Malcolm says, and leans forward into his chest. "Yes sir."</p><p>"Oh, I'm going to enjoy having you around. Yes I am. Good puppy."</p><p>Malcolm closes his eyes, grateful the drug makes him drift. Vic touches over him for a while, cooing and admiring, and then finally Malcolm's brought back to the room and left alone. He sleeps for a while, and then jumps when Gil says his name, looking over at him in the dim light.</p><p>Gil tries to sit up, unable to manage it, and groans weakly. "Kid...are...are you okay? What's...happening?"</p><p>"Nothing," Malcolm says. "I'm fine, Gil…I'm fine." </p><p>"Come here?" Gil asks. "Please." </p><p>Malcolm watches him open his arms, ready to hold him, to cradle him in safety. </p><p>"Not now," Malcolm says. "Sorry." </p><p>"Oh," Gil murmurs, startled, and then wraps his arms around himself instead. "Okay."</p><p>Malcolm could tell him why. He could tell Gil how disgusting he is, what they made him do, what they made him say and <em>feel</em>.</p><p>Instead he's quiet. He rolls onto his other side, closes his eyes against the tears, and doesn't say another word.</p><p>He's said too many today, anyways.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The beginning of a not so fun time for the boys...which is also, unsurprisingly, not fun 😇</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sometime during the night, Malcolm gets cold. He wakes up shivering violently, chilled to the very bone, and drags himself up and over to Gil's side.</p><p>He's disgusted still. He hates himself and thinks he deserves to be miserable. But Gil looks so warm and he's already uncomfortable and suffering enough.</p><p>Gil stirs as he lays down beside him. He wraps his arm around Malcolm, still asleep, and pulls him closer. Malcolm would smile if he didn't hurt so much. Deep inside, he’s happy that Gil's first instinct even sleeping is to hold and protect him. Much closer to the surface, he’s too afraid to feel something like happiness, knowing it’s too dangerous, knowing it will be taken from him.</p><p>He can't imagine spending the rest of his life here. It's not an option. Something has to be done. He has to get someone on his side, even if it's Vic.</p><p>Gil hums softly. Malcolm curls into him, touching his cheek, running a thumb along his beard and through his hair. He can't see in the dark, but he hears Gil take a deep breath, knowing he's awake before he speaks.</p><p>"Kid...are you okay?"</p><p>"No," Malcolm says softly. He doesn't need to go into detail, and he won't. Gil can draw his own conclusions. "I want to go home."</p><p>Gil finds his hair, running his hand through it. "We will. We will, I promise. Just...got to figure out a plan."</p><p>Malcolm doesn't bring up his own. He doesn't tell Gil that one option, maybe the <em> only </em>option, is seduction. It will take time, time he doesn't want to spend here, but he's fairly confident that eventually he could get Vic to slip in some way that would be helpful.</p><p>He asks, "Do we have one?" </p><p>Gil hesitates, and then shakes his head. "No. Not yet." </p><p>Malcolm didn't think so. He buries his face in Gil's chest, sighing in response.</p><p>It's silent for a bit, and then Gil groans softly. "I'm so sorry. Before...I couldn't...I couldn't control myself, I…"</p><p>"It wasn't you," Malcolm says. "It was them. The drug. Not you. Not Gil. I know you wouldn't hurt me."</p><p>"I have. <em> Twice. </em> I—I choked you on me. I made you touch me. I'm so sorry, Bright…"</p><p>"Please. <em> Please </em> don't blame yourself. I can't do this, Gil, not with you doing that."</p><p>Gil quiets himself, sniffing.</p><p>"Please...just hold me."</p><p>Gil nods, whiskers brushing against Malcolm's skin. It's all he can do, the <em> least </em>he can do. </p><p>Eventually, Malcolm falls asleep again, shuddering despite Gil keeping him as close as he can to warm him up. He whines through dream after dream as Gil can only hold him and coo to him, trying to comfort as much as he can until the lingering exhaustion pulls him under, too.</p><p>A shock from his collar wakes him with a cry. The door has already been pulled open, and he doesn't know how he was sleeping deep enough that he didn't hear it. Being this drained scares him, because it means he can't properly protect Malcolm like he needs to. </p><p>He realizes too late that Malcolm isn't in his arms anymore. Confused, terrified, Gil sits up, swaying dizzily, and the man in front of him takes a handful of his hair and yanks.</p><p>"Where is—"</p><p>"Easy, dog," the man says. "Get up."</p><p>"Bright?" he calls, and the man pulls harder and forces him to his feet anyways. Malcolm isn't in the other cot, either, and Gil is overwhelmed with fear. </p><p>"Where is he?" he hisses, and it earns him a blow across the back of his head, another shock from his collar. Two of them drag him out of the room and down the hall by his arms until he can focus enough to put his feet down and stagger along with them. </p><p>They take him to the showers, and Gil is relieved to see Malcolm...and infuriated to find Vic with his hands around him, washing him.</p><p>"Afternoon," Vic hums pleasantly. Malcolm can't meet Gil's eyes in his shame as he wiggles from the continuous stimulation on his oversensitive body.</p><p>"You get your hands off him," Gil snarls, and he's shocked again, cuffed to the wall a good six feet away. Close enough to see in detail, but unable to do a thing to help.</p><p>Vic laughs, kissing Malcolm's shoulder. "He really still thinks you're<em> his, </em>doesn't he?" he whispers, biting Malcolm's ear, and Malcolm whimpers.</p><p>"If he could, he'd be hard as a rock for me right now," Vic says to Gil. "Wouldn't you, puppy? Oh, you're so quiet now...you were whimpering so damn cute before he came in. C'mon...give me another…"</p><p>Malcolm bites his lip, squeezing his eyes shut. He does what he did when Vic was forcing his cock down his throat again. He makes a noise as if he wants it. Gil looks heartbroken. Malcolm wonders if he feels as betrayed as he should.</p><p>"That's right," Vic says, rewarding him with a bite to his neck that's far less painful than the others. </p><p>Gil growls, clenching his fists.</p><p>"Watch yourself, old man," Vic says, reaching up to press his hand over Malcolm's throat in a threat. "Wash up, now. Need to be real clean for today."</p><p>Gil does. Right now, there's no use in fighting. He knows that. It'll only make it worse for them.</p><p>And it's already so fuckingbad.</p><p>Malcolm whines again. Gil doesn't look over, keeps his eyes down on himself as he focuses, even as rage nearly overcomes him. </p><p>Vic pulls away at last, and Malcolm braces himself on the wall as the water turns on, panting. His eyes land on Gil, travel down to between Gil's legs, and more arousal sparks through his body. Fuck, he needs to come…why is he so disgusting? Why does he want Gil to use him, and want to use Gil? Why does he apparently want <em>Vic</em> to use him? Fucking <em>slut. </em></p><p>The vibration of his plug starts up, and he gasps and then moans, far too loudly, "<em>Fuck...please..."</em></p><p>"Begging already, puppy? Good boy. Come on, hurry up. We got places to be."</p><p>He quickly turns to rinse the rest of himself off, keeping his head down even when he hears Gil whispers his name, trying to get his attention. He's too embarrassed, and Gil must know, must understand, because he doesn't try again.</p><p>Vic stands a foot or two behind Gil, just enough to avoid the spray, and though Gil wants to get him wet he knows how childish and stupid it would be.</p><p>"What?" he hisses, only able to look at him over his shoulder, and Vic hums.</p><p>"You missed a spot," he says, and then shoves his finger into him. Gil cries out, from pain and humiliation and something worse, something like <em> dread, </em>and Vic laughs.</p><p>"Not tight up here like my puppy...no, my puppy's still better. Right, pu—"</p><p>"<em>Out!" </em> Gil finally manages to speak, trying to twist around, to flail his body enough to get away from the intrusion. "Get <em> out!"  </em></p><p>"Je-<em>sus,</em>" Vic murmurs, stepping back, and Gil leans heavily against the wall, eyes shut tight, filled with fear he didn’t expect and the horrible image of the Master on top of him, violating him, <em> inside </em>him...</p><p>"Did it scare you that much? Look at you...you're <em> shivering. </em> How fucking adorable. Goddamn...we haven't been teasing <em> you </em>enough. You look pretty as hell all broken."</p><p>"I am not…" Gil says, and then swallows hard, barely able to keep from choking, and starts again. "We are not <em> broken."</em></p><p>"Oh yeah?" Vic nods, a smirk twisting up the edge of his mouth as he steps back. "Well. I can't imagine it'll be too much longer."</p><p>Gil would rather die. He’ll <em> kill </em> himself, slit his own throat, before he lets them break him. He <em> won’t. </em></p><p>And he won’t die, because he has Malcolm to protect. He won’t break. They won’t. They’re going to escape, to get the fuck out of here before something even more permenant happens.</p><p>But he showers, obedient for now. And afterwards, they're given more lingerie, and he obediently gets into that, too. Gil's fits him better, black and laced, and Malcolm's is bright red, the metal of the belt and outline of the cage visible underneath. </p><p>Gil tells himself there's still some drug in his system to excuse the way his cock twitches as the sight.</p><p>The Master evaluates them both in the hall outside, regards them like they're truly nothing more than objects. </p><p>"Nice. Very nice. Look at you both...so pretty." He strokes his hand up Malcolm's chest, teasing his nipples while making eye contact with Gil. Gil scowls, but keeps his hands clasped behind his back. Malcolm's only just managing to do the same, rocking up on his toes and hissing out a breath.</p><p>"You'll both behave," the Master says. "I'm entrusting you with that responsibility."</p><p>"Another <em> party?</em>" Gil mutters, and the Master pinches Malcolm's nipple between two nails, making him yelp.</p><p>"Unlike the last," the Master says. "Well...not completely unlike. But I imagine you'll be better this time, hmm? Come when you're told?”</p><p>Gil lowers his head. It’s not good enough for the Master, who releases Malcolm to instead give his attention to Gil, cupping his chin and raising it back up again.</p><p>“Tell me,” he says, “or I’ll dose you again right here and now, just to be sure."</p><p>Gil’s breath catches. Slowly he forces out, “Yes, Master.”</p><p>“Tell me what you’re going to do, <em> boy,</em>” the Master orders, digging his nails into Gil’s cheeks. “You’ll do <em> what </em> when you’re told?”</p><p>Gil’s eyes dart to Malcolm. Malcolm is shaking, eyes on the ground, and Gil sucks in a deep breath. </p><p>“I’ll come,” he grunts out. “<em>Master.</em>”</p><p>The Master grins. "That's very good. I'll hold you to it. This is going to be very special for you, you just wait."</p><p>He steps back in front of Malcolm. By now the new dose of sedative Vic had given him to drink has fully kicked in, and he's starting to sway as he struggles to keep his eyes open. The Master grasps his throat, gently, and says, "You too, little one. On your best behavior, yes?"</p><p>"Yessir," Malcolm murmurs. Gil nearly flinches from the defeat in his voice. </p><p>The Master hums. He turns, taking a plate from one of the other men, and then holds a piece of meat to Malcolm’s mouth. He grunts, turning his head, but the Master persists until he opens up and eats it. </p><p>“Good boy.” He feeds Malcolm a few pieces, and Gil tenses when the man reaches out to do the same to him.</p><p><br/>
“Eat,” the Master says. “Your boy did so <em> much </em>for you to get this privilege…” </p><p>“Wha—” Gil asks, unable to finish before the Master shoves the piece between his lips, and Gil brings his fist to his mouth, coughing, bending over as he chokes. Malcolm grabs his arm, an instinctual reaction to seeing him in pain, and the Master laughs.</p><p>“He didn’t tell you? Oh, well...he put on <em> quite </em> a show for your patron. Took us beautifully <em> ... </em> practiced sounding like a pretty, proper whore. And <em> my, </em>is he good at it. A shame you couldn’t be there. The things he said to us…”</p><p>Malcolm sags back against the wall, nearly crumpling completely as Gil glances over at him. He flushes hot, hand trembling, and he wants to beg Gil not to look at him, because he can’t handle it. He can’t handle <em> any </em> of this. </p><p>Gil looks away, jaw clenched. The Master holds another piece to Gil’s lips, and he presses them together. He's disgusted, terrified of whatever they'd done to Malcolm while he was too useless, too <em> weak </em> to stop it. He doesn't even know how <em> long </em>he'd been unconscious. All the awful things they could have put his beautiful boy through in the meantime...</p><p>“Open your mouth, or the next thing I shove in it won’t be food.”</p><p>Gil closes his eyes and obeys. He lets the man feed him, give him sips of water between bites, and hates that he’s so damn hungry by now that he doesn't care. It's unseasoned and undercooked and the best thing he's ever tasted, strength to last him a little longer.</p><p>He makes an embarrassing sound of disappointment when there’s no more, and the Master looks him over, pushing him back against the wall with one hand flat on his chest and leaning close. His nose brushes against Gil’s collarbone, and Gil doesn’t take another breath, grimacing, turning his head away as the Master presses his lips down, his tongue pressing into his skin.</p><p>Malcolm whimpers, shifting his weight around, trying to get the Master to look at him instead, but the Master ignores him, still slides his hand down to cup between Gil’s legs, humming.</p><p>“Stop,” Gil mumbles, and the Master chuckles. </p><p>“One day,” he says, rubbing gently as Gil grunts in discomfort, “you’re going to be what everyone else here is. You’re going to beg for every touch you’re given. Both of you. You won’t remember what it feels like to be free, what it feels like to fight. You’re going to break beneath me, and it’s going to be beautiful.”</p><p>Gil shakes his head, and then shivers as the Master sucks a mark onto his neck, trying his best not to lose everything he just swallowed down.</p><p>“Well. We’ll just see, won’t we?” the Master asks, kissing the mark gently, and then finally steps back. Gil breathes deeply, making sure his nauseated disgust is plainly visible on his face, and the Master smirks.</p><p>“Take them,” he says, and Malcolm’s arm is grabbed, making him gasp as he’s yanked forward. They’re led outside, stopped behind the van, and then suddenly black hoods are being pulled over their heads. </p><p>"What—" Gil starts, but as he tries to reach up, his arms are wrenched back behind him and his wrists are cuffed. He's shoved into the back of the vehicle, hitting the metal floor painfully, and hears Malcolm land beside him just before the door slams shut. </p><p>"Bright?" he manages, rolling onto his side, and Malcolm groans. "You okay?"</p><p>"Hit my nose," Malcolm mumbles, and then starts to whimper and squirm. "Fuck, it <em> hurts—"</em></p><p>"Your nose?"</p><p>"No! My—" He kicks out, finally getting onto his side, but it does nothing to stop the pull on his cock from the cage, of the plug still buried inside him, from the awkward position. It <em> hurts,</em> and he wonders if this was part of the plan, to torture him on the way there, too. "I just—<em>hgh!</em>"</p><p>“Shut up!” one of them shouts, slamming his hand against the caging separating the back of the van from the seats. </p><p>“Might have to plug his last hole up,” Vic murmurs, just loud enough to hear, and then taps on the metal. “Is that what we’re going to have to do, puppy? You want to be that full?”</p><p>Malcolm doesn’t reply. Gil groans softly, feeling awful he can't bring Malcolm into his arms, to try and make him any more comfortable. Instead he's forced to lay there, listening to Malcolm writhe and sob in pain every time the car breaks or turns. When it finally stops and the engine turns off, they have a few seconds to speak as the men get out.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Malcolm whispers. “Whatever they make me do, I love you.”</p><p>Gil chokes back a sob, and Malcolm closes his eyes. He’s never heard Gil so close to tears so constantly and it hurts more than any physical pain he’s feeling. He can’t stand it.</p><p>Gil gets as close as he can manage, accidentally bumping their heads together, and says, “We’re gonna be okay. I promise. I love you, too.”</p><p>They’re not going to be okay. They’re never going to be okay again. Tears drip down into Malcolm's hair, and he can't stop from whimpering as they're dragged out and put on their feet again. </p><p>"We're here, pretties," Vic murmurs, grabbing Malcolm as the other man takes Gil, both led forward and up steps with hands on their shoulders. </p><p>Malcolm hears a door open, hears low music and conversation, and his tremor rattles the cuffs behind him. Vic massages his shoulders, shushing him, still guiding him on.</p><p>Someone whistles to their left. Whispers in hushed tones tell him there's an unknown amount of eyes on them, on <em> him, </em>and a whimper of fear slips out.</p><p>"Don't be scared," Vic murmurs, finally stopping him. "We're just going to have a little fun with you. Just a few games, puppy...be a good, <em> sweet </em> little boy, and that cage'll come off. Okay?" </p><p>"Ok-kay," Malcolm says, nodding. He just wants to be able to see Gil—yet that might be worse, leaving him able to see everyone else, too…</p><p>"We've got two very special guests here tonight," Vic says, louder, addressing the room. "Oh, you know I <em> only </em>bring the best. I've never disappointed, and I won't this time."</p><p>Gil lets out a shaky noise, and Malcolm hears his feet shuffle on the floor, hears something metallic clatter as he mutters, "<em>Don't—</em>" before he lets out a hiss of pain and goes silent again. Malcolm's heart thuds in his chest, waiting in terrified anticipation as he hears the same noise in front of him, flinching so hard he staggers back into Vic.</p><p>"Ssh, ssh, puppy," he purrs, running his hands over Malcolm's belly, up to his neck. "Shush now. Relax. Just relax."</p><p>Malcolm <em> can't</em>, his chest heaving under Vic's hand, and then he gasps as something cold and hard pinches his right nipple, then his left. He grits his teeth, pushing through the pain, but it doesn't stop, and he realizes what's been put on him when the chains of the two clamps hit his skin.</p><p>"Turn," Vic orders, and Malcolm does. Vic pulls the hood up, just enough to bare his mouth. "Open."</p><p>"Please," Malcolm whispers. </p><p>"Open your fucking mouth."</p><p>Malcolm obeys. Vic forces a hard ring past his lips, wrenching his mouth open wider, and then turns Malcolm back around to fasten it behind his head. Malcolm feels at the gag with his tongue, unable to close his mouth around it, and trembles with the knowledge of what it's going to be used for. </p><p>"There we go," Vic says. "You're so <em> pretty, </em>puppy. Ready to party? I know you are."</p><p>He pulls the hood off, and Malcolm's eyes shut in the brightness of the lights. When he can finally crack them open again, squinting, he's horrified to find more people than he'd expected. Two dozen at least, mostly men and a few women, some standing and some sitting, <em> all </em>staring at them. In suits and dresses, like this is a cocktail party instead of somewhere to abuse them, and one glance around the room and he knows this is the house of someone with more money than they know what to do with, the expenses rivaling even his own family home.</p><p>He looks over at Gil, and the man behind him has put the same things on him, leaving him flushed and wide-eyed as he meets Malcolm's gaze. He looks <em> furious </em>as he glances Malcolm over and then glares at Vic, and Vic chuckles.</p><p>"You're real sexy when you're angry," Vic tells him, and Gil snarls at him, says something that comes out incoherent as drool drips down his chin.</p><p>"Now <em> that's </em>a pretty sight." Vic steps between them, blowing Gil a kiss, and then takes Malcolm's chin, tilting it to look at the dried blood smearing a line from one nostril across his cheek. Vic licks his thumb, starting to dab at the blood, and Malcolm jerks his head away, breathing heavily.</p><p>"Cutie," Vic chuckles, smacking his ass, jolting the plug further in and making him grunt. "That's fine. You look better bloody." </p><p>He claps his hands, and Malcolm flinches.</p><p>"Alright, now. Who's gonna be the first? C'mon…we've got plenty of time and two <em> very </em>willing toys."</p><p>Malcolm closes his eyes, wincing as Vic absently plays with the chain hanging off one clamp, tugging gently. Can't do this, he can't do this, <em> no more— </em></p><p>"I want him," someone says. Malcolm tenses, preparing to be shoved forward, and then instead he hears struggling beside him, blinking hard to find the other man forcing Gil towards a man on the couch who's unbuckling his belt.</p><p>Malcolm protests, but no words can form around the gag. He takes a step, and Vic grabs him, pulling him close.</p><p>"You wait your turn, puppy," Vic murmurs. "Shane'll take good care of your Gil, I promise. Just like I'm gonna take care of you. You just gotta be good for me." </p><p>Malcolm shakes his head, whining, and Vic speaks to the guests. "Come on, who wants this precious little thing? You? Yeah, you do. I see you do."</p><p>He drags Malcolm over, forcing him to kneel between a man's legs. Gil shouts out, twisting wildly, and then the back of his knees are kicked, sending him to the ground, and Malcolm can't look, hearing Gil's voice suddenly cut off into choked gags.</p><p>"That mutt's got a real fuckin' attitude, huh?" the man in front of Malcolm says as he pulls himself out, and Malcolm sniffles, tears running down his face as Vic pushes his head, forcing him to take the man into the mouth he can't close.</p><p>"Mutt. I like that. That's all he is, really. He's been a real handful. Both of them, actually. But <em> this </em> one...oh, boy. This little one's <em> fun. </em> How's he feel?" </p><p>"Perfect." He thrusts up, choking Malcolm, and Vic fists his hair, keeping him in place.</p><p>"I thought so. Hey—how're you doing, old man? You're turnin' pretty red there!"</p><p>Gil would swear if it could, would spit and curse and threaten. All he can do is writhe in Shane's grasp and it doesn't do a damn thing, his bare feet unable to find purchase on slick tile, two heavy hands holding his head in place. He can't breathe, he can't close his mouth, he can't <em> save Malcolm. </em> He can't do anything at all. He starts to cough, going still in a desperate effort to conserve air, but he's still blacking out by the time the man comes down his throat. He's held still a moment longer, until he swallows, and then the hands from behind and in front fall away, and he takes in a gasping breath as he hits the floor on his side.</p><p>He lays there, untouched, unmoving, for a minute as his senses slowly return. He feels hands on him again, and he flinches, curling into himself, shaking his head.</p><p>"Oh, come on, now. Things are gonna get better for you from here," Shane says, unlocking his cuffs, and Gil groans. He reaches up, fingers tingling and numb as he tries to unbuckle the gag, but he finds there's a tiny lock on the back keeping it in place. He tugs at it, trying to pull it out of his mouth, and then lets out an angry cry when he can't. </p><p>"Be a good boy and it might come off," Shane says, pulling him back up to his knees, then his feet. Gil goes for the clamps instead, and Shane slaps his hand away.</p><p>"Leave them, or I'll clip them to your balls instead."</p><p>Anything Gil might have been about to try to say or do is lost the moment Malcolm sobs to his left, and he's faced with the horrible image of Malcolm being choked again, Vic forcing his head up and down with a sick grin on his face.</p><p><em> Stop! </em> Gil tries, but he just dribbles spit onto his chest again, and the moment he takes a step forward his hair is grabbed and he's yanked back.</p><p>"Ah, ah! You've got things to do over here, baby. Let me show you where you'll be working."</p><p>Shane drags him to the other side of the room even as he fights, tossing him onto a bed. A manacle closes around his ankle, locking him in place, and he grunts his fury, slamming his fist against the metal bars of the headboard.</p><p>"You'll need that strength, baby. Save it up."</p><p>He raises himself up just enough, trying to see where Malcolm is, but he can't. Not with the crowd gathered around where he'd been. He tries his hardest to shout a comprehensible version of Malcolm's name, so desperately trying to let him know he's still here, but once again only inarticulate grunts come out. Someone slides up behind him, slipping the thick, thankfully lubricated, thankfully protected tip of their cock inside of him. He gasps, jerking forward, and an arm comes around his waist and pulls him back, pushing it further inside.</p><p>"You take it so well," the man says. "Oh, wow. This is really something to see. You're just swallowing me up, aren't you?"</p><p>As much as he knows begging wouldn't help, the fact that Gil <em> can't </em>makes him cry out in frustration. The man orders him to ride him, and when he doesn't, when he refuses and snarls and scratches, the man simply slams him down on the mattress and starts to roughly fuck into him anyway.</p><p>"Dumb bitch," the man laughs, leering down in Gil's face. "Fuck, you're pretty handsome, aren't you? Not like the boy, but, hey. His holes are a little occupied right now."</p><p>Gil shoves and slaps at him, swearing, and then Shane grabs his wrists, slides them through the bars and holds them there even as he struggles.</p><p>“Ah, ah. Hold still. Hey! You listenin’ to me? Stop fucking squirmin’!”</p><p>“Nah,” the man above him chuckles. “It’s makin’ this better.”</p><p><em> That’s </em>what makes Gil go still, and his hands clench into fists as the man speeds up his thrusts. </p><p><em> Focus, focus, </em>he just has to focus on Malcolm. Nothing else matters. Nothing else. He cranes his head, trying to see around him. A few people are watching him, eyes dark and hungry, and he has the horrible thought that maybe, if he can distract more of them with himself, they’ll leave Malcolm alone. </p><p>He can do that. He can do <em> this. </em> For Malcolm, he has to.</p><p>A hand comes around Gil’s throat, squeezing hard, and it cuts off his breath before he can take one.</p><p>“Fuck—come on, <em> move!” </em></p><p>Gil chokes out a sound that even he can hardly hear, and the burning in his lungs makes his limbs start to flail on their own as he can only think of his need for air. The man coos incoherently in his ear, grunting, and then finally comes with a final push forward and a gasp. </p><p>He doesn’t release Gil right away, instead lessening the pressure gradually, and Gil is nearly on the verge of passing out again when finally he can breathe. He chokes on his inhale, on his own saliva he can’t swallow, and desperately pulls on the gag as Shane releases his hands. Then, he's being pulled up to sit, and Shane hooks a finger into the gag’s strap and yanks hard enough that Gil wails.</p><p>“Are you gonna be a good boy? Hmm? I can take this off, but you keep this mouth open. Deal?”</p><p>Gil nods, dark spots in his vision, and then the gag is unbuckled, and he doubles over, coughing and panting.</p><p>Shane's hand comes to rub a circle against his back, patting in mock comfort. “Come on. Cough it up. You got shit to do."</p><p>When Gil manages to get himself under control again, there's a woman sprawled on the bed, smiling sullenly up at him and holding up a condom between two fingers.</p><p>"Hi there," she says, and Gil feels his ears heating up as he looks down to her spread legs before closing his eyes.</p><p>"No," he says. "<em>Please. </em>I don't want to." </p><p>"Really doesn't matter what <em>you</em> want, now does it?" she says as Shane shoves at him, and Gil shakes his head.</p><p>"No!" </p><p>A fist closes into his hair, and he grunts as his head is yanked back.</p><p>"You," Vic says, too calmly, "had better stick that cock of yours in her, and everyone else who asks, <em> mutt</em>, or I'm going to fuck you raw. Right here, in the middle of everyone, until you're screaming. And then I'm going to choke that pretty baby out on you again. You remember how good he looked last time?"</p><p>"Don't," Gil mumbles, and Vic pushes him forward.</p><p>"<em> Fuck her." </em></p><p>"I <em> can't</em>,<em>" </em>he groans. "Please. God, please don't make me."</p><p>"Your choice. You got ten seconds to decide."</p><p>Shouting out in his frustration, Gil obeys. He unwraps the condom with shaking fingers, pulls it on, uses the lubricant they give him, and pushes into her, disgusted as she moans. Her head lays back against the pillow, and she smiles sickeningly. </p><p>"Not so bad, huh?" she asks, and Gil hangs his head and shuts his eyes, tears down his face.</p><p>"<em>Move,"</em> Vic says, slapping him on the back. "And keep your come in. You got more than just her to fuck."</p><p>Miserably, Gil starts to move. At first it doesn't feel good. He wants to stop. And then slowly he starts to grunt from the sensation. </p><p>He still wants to stop. He just wants to stop. He can't see Malcolm, he just wants Malcolm…</p><p>She finishes, and then shoves him away with her foot. He collapses back on the bed, panting, but it's not empty long before a man replaces her. </p><p>"Let's go, slut. Show me what you can do."</p><p>"I c-<em>can't," </em> Gil whispers. "Please. I need—I don't want—<em>please." </em></p><p>"Guess you need something to do with that mouth, first...not a problem. I got something for it right here."</p><p>He pulls Gil's head down, and Gil sobs, trying his best to only think of Malcolm's benefit from it. He just has to be good...it's not hard...he's done it all before, now...this is his <em> life </em>now, right…?</p><p>And then, something far worse than what they could ever physically do to him, Malcolm is thrown onto the bed adjacent, hands clawing at the man who straddles him to keep him there. His wide, reddened eyes meet Gil's, and he cries out his name so desperate and clear that Gil can understand it even through the gag, and Gil slams his hands out, struggling to pull himself back.</p><p>"Look at him buck! Like a horse that still needs to be broken, huh?"</p><p>"Just like," Vic agrees, slapping Gil's ass. "Come on, baby. Lighten up. You're getting it easy. You have no idea how much my puppy swallowed out there! Wish you could have seen. But hey...<em>now </em>you can. Fuck your customers, and pretend it's him. Shouldn't be too hard."</p><p>Malcolm shrieks as both wrists are restrained to the headboard, kicking out and twisting his body to try and escape. Vic shushes him, tells him to keep still, and unlocks and removes the belt. </p><p>"There you go, puppy. All ready and open for us. Alright...he's all yours." </p><p>The man enters him, even as Malcolm squirms to avoid it, and Malcolm cries out for Gil again, tears soaking into his hair again.</p><p>Gil willingly starts to suck, only to move the process along, to have his mouth free again. Eventually, before he comes, the man pulls him back, and his first word chokes out as, "Ma—colm!"</p><p>"<em>Gil," </em> Malcolm whines, still barely understandable. His jaw hurts so badly that most of his tears are just from the pain at this point, his stomach is aching and full and he feels <em> disgusting </em> but Vic had told him he'd be punished if he 'wasted what he was given.' He's never been treated so roughly, choked so many times, and now—now Gil is going to have to <em> watch, </em> to suffer alongside him.</p><p>"That's right," Vic encourages, watching Malcolm intently. "Don't be too rough with him, now…gotta work up to it. He's a tight one."</p><p>"<em>Vic—" </em>Malcolm says, though only the last syllable really comes out, and Vic pouts at him, sliding around to cup his chin.</p><p>"Lean back, puppy. Spread your legs more. Relax. I'm gonna take care of you, just like I said. Because you're gonna be good, right?"</p><p>Malcolm nods, breathing hard, and obeys. He leans back, allows the man easier access, and weeps silently as he looks at Vic.</p><p>"<em>Jesus </em>, you're pretty when you cry," Vic says, petting his hair as he admires him. "Give some moans for him, baby. Just like we practiced."</p><p>Malcolm groans, and the man thrusts into him harder, grunting. He tries to gesture to the gag, and Vic shakes his head.</p><p>"Not yet. Let's see how you do for a bit. Then I'll take it off. Okay? Be good. Don't come, and I'll take it off."</p><p>Malcolm whimpers and nods, eyes darting back over to Gil, and Gil's head is lowered submissively, his cock buried in someone else. </p><p>Malcolm wishes it was him. </p><p>Someone grabs his hair, blocking Vic and Gil from view as they guide his mouth towards them, and he closes his eyes.</p><p>There's a point where he accepts it. He doesn't know how many men come and go above him, and he doesn't know how much time has passed. Hours, he assumes. He's in so much pain, but still numb in some way. He focuses on Gil when he can, and notices him giving in, too. His face becomes void of emotion, and between <em> customers </em> he curls up on his side with his back facing Malcolm, cradling his head in his arms, maybe trying to pretend he isn't here until someone forces him to move again, makes him remember he <em> is. </em></p><p>It hurts to see him look so broken. Malcolm isn't sure he looks any better, but he tries his very hardest to look okay whenever he finds their eyes meeting.</p><p>Gil doesn't look like he believes it. Malcolm wouldn't either. He's covered in his own come from orgasms forced out of him by the strangers, exhausted and sweaty and <em> done. </em>He's just done. He just wants to be done.</p><p>Vic had removed his gag, but only after Malcolm promised only to use his voice for work. For being a <em> whore </em>for these men. That the first time he said Gil’s name, it would go back on for good.</p><p>Gil had to listen to it. Gil had to hear all the disgusting things he said to make them finish, had to hear his breath catching and the cries he couldn't hold back when he came, too.</p><p>Vic tells him, again and again, how beautiful he is. He stays lurking around, almost always within Malcolm's sight, keeping them from being too physical. He even takes the nipple clamps off when Malcolm whimpers that he can’t feel them anymore, and, with enough begging, helps Malcolm relieve himself into a bottle. </p><p>Almost like he cares. Almost like he wants Malcolm more comfortable. But Malcolm knows it's only to stop him from being too hurt to continue, or to silence his whining.</p><p>(He thinks he knows. He knows that, right? Of course he does.)</p><p>Eventually there’s a pause in the assaults and, either from the drug still inside him or the constant exertion, Malcolm slips into something resembling sleep, only aware of things going on between long, tired blinks in which he’s sure more than a few minutes pass. People are looking down at him, and then they’re gone. Gil’s being hurt again, and then he’s laying down.</p><p>Vic is somewhere else, and then he’s cupping the back of Malcolm’s head, offering him a glass of cold water. Malcolm doesn’t care if it’s drugged, downing as much as he’s allowed. Vic, surprisingly, doesn’t take it away until it’s empty, and Malcolm is relieved. He must have been good. He’s been good...</p><p>“Attaboy,” Vic purrs, and then steps back, looking down into the glass. “Damn. I was gonna give the mutt the rest, but...ah, well. I'm sure he's fine."</p><p>Malcolm whimpers softly, looking over at Gil, but Gil hasn’t moved, doesn’t even acknowledge anyone’s speaking at all, in a ball in the middle of the bed.</p><p>“I think that last come really took him out,” Vic says, tsking. “Poor thing. Must be hard being so old. What’s he gotta be, fifty-somethin’? Woulda killed his ass while taking you if it was a normal grab, but your patron’s got a <em> thing </em>for him. Some kinda revenge boner. Probably wants the honor of doing it himself.”</p><p>“No,” Malcolm mumbles, and Vic presses two fingers against his lips to close them.</p><p>“Shush, puppy. He's turning out good for business, anyway. Oh, no...look at these...all red and swollen…damn, you’re looking good.” He slips one finger between them, and Malcolm winces, obediently opening to him, letting him put two in and then three. He runs his tongue over them, looking up at Vic through his lashes, and Vic’s next breath shudders. </p><p>“That’s good,” he says quietly. “That’s real good, puppy.” He slides them around Malcolm's mouth, biting his lip, and Malcolm lets his eyes drag down Vic's body, stopping at his waistline.</p><p>"You want me, sweet thing?" Vic asks, getting closer, and Malcolm groans softly.</p><p>Vic pulls his fingers out, leaning over to kiss him, rubbing himself through his pants. "You're so pretty, baby...such a good and pretty puppy...if we were back, I'd fill you up. Come right inside that pretty ass. You love it, huh? Yeah you do. Fuck…" </p><p>He shakes his head, pulling away. "Can't here, though. Not the right time. But I'm gonna fuck you until you're <em> screaming </em>the second I get the chance, don't you worry."</p><p>He sighs, almost <em> forlorn, </em> and Malcolm looks as disappointed as he can manage, even whining when Vic steps back. </p><p>Vic looks delighted. He looks <em> fooled. </em> He winks at Malcolm and says, “Shush now. You’ve got one more thing to do, still. One more show. Everyone’s been looking forward to it...it was <em> specially </em>requested.”</p><p>“I’m t-tired,” Malcolm whispers. “It...hurts. Hurts bad.”</p><p>“Down here?” Vic asks<em>, </em>sliding a hand between his cheeks, and Malcolm squeezes his eyes shut and arches his back, moaning in protest as Vic strokes a finger over his abused hole. </p><p>“Please...please, don’t, it <em> hurts.” </em></p><p><em><br/>
</em>“They really stretched you out, huh? So cute. Listen to you. Just one more for me, puppy. You can take it. I know you can.”</p><p>Malcolm shakes his head, but he doesn’t protest otherwise because it doesn’t matter. He gasps for breath as Vic finally stops touching him, sagging against the soiled sheets, and then watches as Vic moves over to Gil’s side. He runs a hand down Gil’s spine, and when that doesn’t get any reaction he slams his open palm down <em> hard </em> against his ass. </p><p>Gil gasps, jerking forward, rolling onto his stomach and groaning low against the mattress. </p><p>“Shut up, mutt. Up you go.” He unchains Gil’s ankle, grabs both of his feet, and yanks him out of bed and onto the floor. “I said <em> up!</em>”</p><p>“Stop!” Malcolm pleads, and Vic ignores him, bringing his foot forward in a violent kick, and though Malcolm can’t see it land or where it hit he hears Gil’s breath leave him in a horrible choked sound. Vic doesn’t give him any time to recover, reaching down to grab him under the arms. </p><p>“Come on! Upsy-daisy!” </p><p>Gil looks awful, a line of blood down his chin from where he's bitten at his lip, eyes half-open as Vic shoves him over the bed, smacking his ass again. “Crawl up there. Come on. Jesus, what is <em> wrong </em>with you?” He grabs Gil’s chin, using his thumb to pull one eyelid up, and then scoffs. “Are you high?”</p><p>“I—I don’t know,” Gil says, because he doesn’t know anything, he doesn’t even know where he <em> is. </em> He’s aching and so <em> tired</em>, and he can’t stop himself from seeking comfort, crawling forward and slumping against Malcolm’s side. Oh, Malcolm…his Malcolm...his warm, pretty Malcolm...</p><p>“Gil,” Malcolm whispers, and Gil pushes his face into Malcolm’s neck without responding.</p><p>"Gil…? Wh...what's wrong?"</p><p>“Shane!” Vic shouts, while Malcolm desperately tries to get a response. “Did you give him some of your shit?”</p><p>Appearing from another room, Shane snorts. “Just a sniff. What? Don’t look at me like that, <em> you’re </em>the one who told me to pep him up!”</p><p>“I didn’t say crack him out of his mind!”</p><p>“He’s <em> fine. </em> Look, it’s already worn off. Look at him. Cute as a button, all sleepy like that.”</p><p>“He’s not <em> done,” </em> Vic says, and then hisses something to Shane that Malcolm can’t hear. He nudges Gil with his hip, murmuring his name again, and Gil moans softly. He was drugged <em> again, </em> they hurt him <em> again, </em> Malcolm had been three feet from him and he hadn't even known...</p><p>"Alright," Vic says, patting Gil's thigh. "Wakey wakey. I know you're crashing hard, but if you don't get yourself together, he's just gonna have to give you more."</p><p>"<em>No,</em>" Gil replies, shaking his head, and quickly forces himself to sit up. He remembers now, Shane grabbing him and forcing something up his nose, telling him to sniff and, when he didn't, covering his mouth until he was forced to breathe it in anyway, and then...not much for a while afterwards. Pure adrenaline and then <em> exhaustion. </em> He braces himself with a hand against the headboard, and swallows the nausea threatening to make him retch. "No. I-I don't…"</p><p>Vic grabs his chin, presses two fingers to his neck to take his pulse. "You're fine. Little fucked up, but fine. Sit between his legs. <em> Stay. </em> I find you moved, I'll beat the shit out of you."</p><p>Gil obeys, struggling just to keep his eyes open. Malcolm looks up at him, tearful, shaking, and Gil doesn't know why he decides the best course of action of calming him is to touch him. He lays his hand over Malcolm's stomach, and Malcolm jumps.</p><p>"I'm...sorry," Gil says, and pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes. "God, kid, my <em> head…</em>"</p><p>Weakly, Malcolm curls his legs around Gil's waist, the best he can do to comfort him. "Gil…" he says softly, and then, before he can say anything else, he hears Vic's voice from the hall.</p><p>"We got <em> one </em>more thing, now. I know some of you know, but we got a real special request for our boys."</p><p>"I'm scared," Malcolm says, and Gil can't answer before Malcolm tenses and shakes his head, warning him not to speak just before Vic grabs Gil's hair again and pulls his head back.</p><p>"You ready, mutt?" </p><p>"What...am I doin'?" he manages to ask, and Vic releases him with a chuckle. </p><p>"Fucking one last hole," he says, and Gil feels the blood drain from his face as Vic pats Malcolm's leg and smirks at him, a crowd of the guests gathering around them.</p><p>"No," Malcolm says, and then starts to squirm. "No, no, <em> no—"</em></p><p>"No." Gil leans away, shaking his head. They can kill him, but he's not doing that. He won't. He's already shoved his cock down Malcolm's throat, he <em> won't </em>do more. He won't.</p><p>"You think you have a choice? That's fucking adorable." Vic smacks him hard, but Gil doesn't fall, glaring. </p><p>"<em>No,"</em> he says again.</p><p>Vic purses his lips, nods, and then reaches into his pocket, and Gil doubles over with a cry as his collar is activated. </p><p>"Gil!" Malcolm shouts, and Gil gasps for air as it stops, trembling at Malcolm's feet. </p><p>"What was that?" Vic asks, leaning closer, and Gil spits in his direction.</p><p>"<em>No." </em></p><p>"Oh, right. You're one of those. No care for yourself, right? Right. Well—" He points it at Malcolm instead, and Malcolm screams.</p><p>Gil can't bear the fucking sound. He doesn't know what to do, he's drugged and confused and desperate, and they're hurting his boy. He doesn't know how to make them stop. "Stop—please!" </p><p>The pain relents, and Malcolm slumps, gasping for air as Vic addresses Gil. "You gonna be good?" </p><p>"I can't—I won't hurt him!"</p><p>"This isn't hurting him?" He shocks Malcolm again, and Malcolm's body spasms, arching up off the mattress as he wails.</p><p>Rape him or let them hurt him—they aren't choices, they're torture, Gil is being tortured worse than anything they've done so far and he wouldn't be able to handle it sober, much less now while there's a sledgehammer to his skull. "Just stop! Please stop!" </p><p>"Then tell me you'll be good."</p><p>There's no choice. There's never been any choice. Malcolm's going to suffer either way. At least...if <em> Gil </em> hurts him, he can make sure it's gently...he can hurt him <em> less… </em></p><p>Malcolm loses his voice, shuddering and choking on the pain in silence, and Gil leans over, resting his hands against the bed, head bowed in defeat. "I'll be good! Please, just <em> stop!"  </em></p><p>Malcolm at last takes a ragged breath, coughing, and when Gil raises his head to look at him, Vic grabs his throat and forces Gil to look at him instead.</p><p>"Fuck him," Vic says, "and you <em> both </em>better come, or next time I'll leave it on until his heart stops. Don't think I won't."</p><p>Gil <em> sobs. </em> It makes Vic laugh, makes him kiss Gil roughly before tossing him down again. </p><p>Gil looks up, finally, and Malcolm's bleary eyes are on him.</p><p>"Bright…" he whispers, moving up, reaching up to cup his face, and Malcolm smiles weakly at him.</p><p>"D...do it," he says. "I-I want you, Gil. It's okay."</p><p>"How fucking sweet," someone coos, getting a few chuckles, and Gil closes his eyes.</p><p>"I want to—his wrists," Gil says, cautiously. "Can I take them off?" </p><p>"Do whatever you want," Vic says, tossing a condom and lubricant at him, "but if your dick isn't in him in the next three minutes, we're gonna have a problem." </p><p>Gil carefully, tenderly undoes the restraints, rubbing the bruises left behind as Malcolm watches. It's the first time all night he's been treated like he's worth anything at all, and it makes sense that, like always, it's by Gil. </p><p>"Better?" Gil asks, and Malcolm nods. </p><p>"Y-yes. Thank you." And then he starts to cry again, because this isn't how their first time should be. There should be candles, and flowers, or maybe just a dark room, one of their homes. It wouldn't have mattered the location, but it would be just them, slow and loving.</p><p>Not here. Not like this.  </p><p>"I have to...touch you," Gil whispers. "Okay?"</p><p>Malcolm nods again, spreading his legs as Gil slides back down between them. His hands shake as he tears open the condom, but even as he fists himself he shakes his head, unable to get anywhere. </p><p>"Gil." Malcolm gestures at him, and when Gil leans over him again Malcolm cups the back of his head, guiding his mouth down against his stomach. Gil groans softly, almost instinctively kissing the skin there, and Malcolm gasps, tugging. </p><p>"Up," he says, and Gil kisses a few more spots in a line up his chest before finally finding his mouth.</p><p>"I love you," Malcolm mumbles against his lips, wrapping his sore arms around him. "It's just us. No one else. I—I want you inside me, Gil. Please."</p><p>Gil so desperately wants to believe it. He wants to pretend, wants it to be <em> real </em>. He reaches down, stroking himself as they kiss, and with Malcolm's little whines helping him, with the feeling of Malcolm growing hard against his thigh, he starts to fill out.</p><p>"Ah, G-<em>Gil," </em> Malcolm groans, rocking up. He's been so goddamn horny for Gil since Gil had been drugged on that bed, the belt preventing him from any satisfaction. He doesn't want any of the rest of them. He just wants <em> Gil</em>, so bad it hurts.</p><p>Of course they would make him finally <em>getting</em> Gil a punishment.</p><p>He starts to writhe, and finally Gil pulls away, slipping the condom on, slicking it, and lifting Malcolm just enough.</p><p>"Fuck," he whispers. "I can't…"</p><p>"Please," Malcolm says. "It's okay."</p><p>He's scared Gil won't. He's scared of more pain, and he's scared of what they'll do to Gil. </p><p>Instead, mercifully, Gil lines himself up and slowly starts to push in.</p><p>Malcolm gasps, or tries to, because suddenly there's no air in the room at all. The burning stretch is overwhelmed by the knowledge that it's not a stranger, it's not Vic or the Master, it's <em> Gil.</em> Gil, the man he's been in love with for so long it feels like forever, finally inside of him, filling him like he's always wanted.</p><p>It's so...gentle. Gil is slow. He doesn't shove his way in like everyone else, doesn't do this to claim Malcolm's body for his own. He does it watching Malcolm's face for any sign of discomfort, even knowing he can't stop.</p><p>"You're crying," Gil says, as if he isn't as well. "It hurts?" </p><p>Malcolm gives him a weak and watery smile, shaking his head. "No. Cryin' 'cause it doesn't."</p><p>Gil drops his head down to Malcolm's shoulder, kissing it gently as he bottoms out. Malcolm's arms wrap around him, curling his fingers into Gil's hair. </p><p>It's almost okay. He can close his eyes and pretend. </p><p>Then Vic speaks again. "<em>Move," </em>he orders, swatting Gil, and Gil grunts against Malcolm's skin, pulling himself up and giving one experimental thrust.</p><p>"Oh!" Malcolm gasps, startled, and then nods encouragingly when Gil looks him over with so much fear that Malcolm feels it himself. "I'm okay—I'm okay, please, just…"</p><p>Gil sniffles, unable to do anything but start to move. Malcolm easily reacts to it, far easier than he did to anyone else, starting to whine and wriggle, biting his lip as he pushes his head back against the pillow. "Oh, G<em>-Gil…yes…" </em></p><p>Gil flinches. Malcolm feels it shudder through him, and though he thinks someone touched him, instead he realizes it was from what he said. Gil thinks he's the bad guy. Gil thinks Malcolm's never going to see him the same, as if he doesn't know they're <em> both </em>being forced to do this. </p><p>"I love you," Malcolm whispers. "I love you, Gil…I want you, it's okay, I promise…"</p><p>"I love you," Gil weeps, kissing his boy's neck. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." </p><p>"I'm close...please...harder...make me come."</p><p>He squeezes around Gil's cock, and Gil groans in arousal and despair.</p><p>"I can't—"</p><p>"You have to." Malcolm cups his cheeks, pulls his head up, and meets their lips, licking into his mouth and moaning. "Please. Please...just please…"</p><p>Gil sobs. For Malcolm, he starts to thrust harder. For Malcolm, he chases the end. He kisses him hard, muffling both of their groans and grunts, and fists Malcolm's cock again and again until Malcolm's shaking and crying out and coming. </p><p>He tightens so beautifully around Gil, but it's still not enough. He fucks harder, sweat pouring down his body as Malcolm starts to mewl from oversensitivity, but his body still remains stubbornly below his peak.</p><p>"You're just <em> beggin' </em> for punishment, aren't you, mutt?" Vic asks, and Malcolm grunts. He won't let Gil be hurt again, if he can help it. Every time he's failed, but not here. Not now. </p><p>He wraps his sore legs around Gil's waist, yanks him closer, and starts moaning right into his ear.</p><p>"<em>Fuck me,</em>" he whines, and Gil chokes on his breath, "fuck me like that. Fill me up. Wanna feel your come in me, <em> please!"  </em></p><p>Gil's eyes go wide. He starts moving faster, unknowingly, and Malcolm bounces back against him, letting his head fall back and his mouth open like he's never felt anything better.</p><p>"That's it! Nnh—right there!" He drags his hand down his chest, touches himself between them, and then pulls Gil down until there's no space between them. "Yes! Feels so good! Harder! Oh, <em>God, </em>I'm so wet—I want your come, <em>please!</em>"</p><p>He keeps dirty-talking into Gil's ear, and Gil is ashamed how fast and hard he comes. The second he does, Malcolm goes quiet, and his arms go as limp as the rest of him. He stops holding Gil, drops back down to the bed, panting.</p><p>He looks...dead inside. As the pleasure fades, Gil realizes with dawning horror that he's just made Malcolm use his newly taught <em> talents. </em> Malcolm must see him as nothing more than one of them, now, and Gil is never going to forgive himself.</p><p>Still, it's over. </p><p>He pulls out, and Malcolm doesn't react. He's flushed, half-hard again, but thankfully no one demands Gil take care of it.</p><p>Instead, both of them flinch as there's the sound of someone clapping their hands together.</p><p>"What a <em> performance</em>," comes a darkly amused voice from behind the others, and Malcolm’s entire body tenses, pulling up and away from Gil as he suddenly tries to cover himself from view.</p><p>Gil doesn’t understand what’s different, doesn’t recognize the voice immediately. Not until he sees the man slide through the path the others create for him, a smirk on his lips.</p><p>“No,” Gil says. “<em>No</em>.”</p><p><br/>
Nicholas Endicott smirks, sipping at the glass of whiskey in his hand. “Don’t sound so upset,” he murmurs. “What’s wrong? Whose beautiful house did you think this was?” He gestures around, but Gil doesn’t care to look, keeping his eyes on the man as he takes another step forward. He then quickly folds himself over Malcolm, shielding him, and bares his teeth in a snarl.</p><p>“Goddamn <em> feral,</em>” Vic snickers, stepping forward and shaking his head. “Good luck with that one."</p><p>He reaches out, and hands Endicott the remote to their collars. Gil blinks, and dread overwhelms him, sinks him down closer to Malcolm. </p><p>“What—what is this?”</p><p>“Oh,” Endicott says, tilting his head in mock confusion. “You weren’t told? Apologies. But, you see, I paid for your services for forty-eight hours. It’s only been...well, a little less than five. We still have <em> so </em>much time to get to know each other.”</p><p>Gil makes a horrified sound in his throat. Malcolm whimpers, trembling. </p><p>Vic leans over the bed, kissing beside Gil's ear and murmuring into it, "Broken, yet?"</p><p>Gil can't respond. Vic doesn't give him a chance to. Instead he laughs, pats Shane on the shoulder, and starts to leave.</p><p>“Sir!” Malcolm gasps, reaching out, and Vic sticks his lower lip out.</p><p>“So <em> cute</em>, puppy. What’s wrong?”</p><p>“You p-promised,” he says, and Vic smiles. </p><p>“Oh, but Mr. Endicott here is going to take <em> perfect </em>care of you. I know he will. You'll be just fine. Have a good time, puppy. I’ll be seeing you again soon.”</p><p>And then they’re gone, and Malcolm shrinks. He heaves under Gil, choking, and Endicott coos, coming closer.</p><p>“How’s that withdrawal going, sweetheart?"</p><p>"Don't you—" Gil starts, but then Endicott is pointing the remote at him, and the only thing Gil can do is scream.</p><p>"You," Endicott says, suddenly with his hand around Gil's throat, "should have minded your own business.”</p><p>Gil doesn’t remember falling back, away from Malcolm. Gil’s mouth opens, but he can’t breathe, can’t get a sound out. Endicott looks him over, licking his lips, and purrs, “Oh, <em> Gil...</em>Malcolm's going to be a delicious treat, of course, but <em> you...mmhm. </em> Gil, you're going to be something else."</p><p>He leans down, forcing him into a kiss, shoving his tongue in as hard as Gil tries to stop it.</p><p>"I've waited for this moment," Endicott says, pulling back before Gil can clamp his teeth down and moving his kisses to Gil’s neck, "for so <em> very </em>long.”</p><p>“Stop!” Malcolm shouts, grabbing the arm Endicott’s using to support himself and yanking it out from under him. Endicott laughs even as he loses his balance, picks himself back up and runs his eyes over Malcolm’s body in a way that feels just as violating as a touch would.</p><p>“Malcolm, Malcolm, Malcolm. What <em> am </em>I going to do with you, hmm?” </p><p>Gil growls in warning. To the best of his ability he won’t let Endicott do <em> anything, </em> but he’s terrified, because he knows Endicott now has the power to control him, to subdue him. Enough shocks from the collar and he won’t be able to resist, he won’t be able to <em> protect. </em></p><p>Endicott laughs. “<em>Down</em>, boy. Both of you, still so <em> feisty. </em> Oh, my little pets. We’re going to have <em> so </em>much fun. I promise you. Now…”</p><p>He slides the remote into his breast pocket, rubs his hands together, and smiles.</p><p>"Shall we get the real party started?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They are really not having a good time...but Endicott is 😌</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Malcolm is scared. Really, really scared.</p><p>And Malcolm is <em> angry. </em></p><p>As the crowd that'd been watching their forced sex starts to dissipate, Nicholas Endicott remains. He stands above them in every way, steady while they shake, free while they remain captive. He gestures at someone across the room, slides his hands in his pocket, and Gil holds Malcolm tighter as another man comes to Endicott's side.</p><p>"This is Aaron," Endicott says, grasping the man's shoulder, giving him an almost affectionate shake. "My closest friend. My most trusted. Helps me keep my life together. He's going to be helping me with the two of you, too, since I just <em> know </em>you're going to be a handful. You seem to pride yourselves in that."</p><p>"You s-<em>sold </em> us," Malcolm whispers, overcome with fury from what's been done to them because of <em> this man. </em> "You—<em>bastard</em>, you fucking—"</p><p>"<em>Temper</em>, pet…don't make me hurt you already. We've barely gotten to talk! We have so much to catch up on...and I’m sure you have so much to tell me.”</p><p>He sounds like he thinks it’s a joke...he sounds like he thinks the worst time of their lives has been nothing but a vacation to tell <em> stories </em>about...</p><p>“Come,” he goes on. “You're both filthy...thirsty, I'm sure...perhaps hungry? You've had a very long night."</p><p>Neither of them move, and Endicott tsks, still so calm.</p><p>"Now, now, boys…I'd like you to understand something. I can be good to you, or I can be <em> terrible </em>to you. I guarantee that whoever's beaten you thus far has not had the toys to do so with that I do. Toys designed, specifically, to hurt disobedient whores. I'd hate to get started on that already...you both look so tired. I’d thought you could sleep for a while, really regain your strength and stamina...but if you're ready to fight, we can get right into it.” </p><p>He adjusts his tie, and regards them with feigned curiosity. “<em>Is </em>that what you want?"</p><p>Gil's arms are giving out under him. Malcolm can feel his full weight starting to press against him, and knows Gil's far too exhausted to take anything else. He wouldn't hate a moment to rest, either...a moment where he isn't being used, where they’re not having to suffer through watching each other be abused...</p><p>"No," he finally says, quiet, lowering his head.</p><p>"Oh, little Malcolm. I'd like you to address me a bit kinder than that."</p><p><em> Little Malcolm. </em>His thoughts suddenly back to being beneath his house with Watkins, Malcolm flinches. It makes the back of his head knock up into Gil’s chin, and Gil groans.</p><p>“Oh...did I say something you didn't like?”</p><p>No. If he doesn’t know, he <em> can’t </em>know. Malcolm won’t give him something else to use. He wishes that that was as horrific as his life had gotten...being stabbed and a broken hand seems like a walk in the park compared to all of this. </p><p>Quickly he shakes his head and says, “No. Sir. No sir.” </p><p>"Hmm. We'll have to work on it. First thing’s first…get up."</p><p>Hesitant and slow, Malcolm pushes at Gil, and Gil groans, "Don't…" </p><p>"Have to," Malcolm whispers, and he knows Gil knows that too. He nuzzles Gil gently as he slips out from underneath him, and the moment he's no longer there as Gil's support Gil collapses down against the bed.</p><p>Malcolm's legs are weak and wobbly after so long of being in bed, and he stumbles. Endicott catches him, pulls him against his chest, and Malcolm gasps. "No—"</p><p>"Ssh," Endicott says, grabbing his chin and lifting it up. "Look at those lips...oh, I haven't tasted you in much too long, pet. But look at you...covered in everyone's come. How many cocks have you had in that mouth tonight, hmm? Nasty nasty…"</p><p>Malcolm chokes softly, tears in his eyes. He <em> knows </em>how disgusting he is, and he thinks of the Master, Vic, everyone at the parties...so many people, so many fucking people—</p><p>"It's you! Your fault! You did this!" he cries, wrenching his head free, and Endicott laughs.</p><p>"Are you quite sure? Because I seem to remember giving you <em> plenty </em>of warning. You know you could have avoided this, don’t you? You let Gil know what I did, what I said...right? Or did you want him to suffer for your mistakes, too?"</p><p>Sudden guilt makes him feel sick, and he whimpers. Endicott laughs, tapping Malcolm's nose with the tip of his finger, and says, "We'll have plenty of time to talk soon, pet...I promise you that. Oh, dear...Gil? You're really not looking well."</p><p>Malcolm turns to look at Gil as Gil groans, his face more sickly and pale than it was moments ago, but as Malcolm tries to return to Gil's side Endicott pulls him back.</p><p>"Stop—let me—"</p><p>Gil gags, reaching up to hold his head, and then heaves onto the floor. </p><p>"My, what did they give you, hmm? Poor thing," Endicott says, chuckling, and Gil doesn't respond, pressing his face against the blanket and groaning again, arms hanging limp off the side of the bed. It's not like him at all, and it scares Malcolm. He looks <em> bad. </em> Malcolm knows he's only crashing, and that it'll fade in time, but Malcolm can't stand the pain he's in, that they're <em> both </em> in, all because of the man beside him, whose awful fingers are trailing down the small of his back.</p><p>"So soft," Endicott murmurs, almost under his breath, and Malcolm shudders. One finger starts to slide down between his cheeks, and he flinches, and then it stops.</p><p>"But so <em> filthy</em>. Mmm. Aaron. Take our guests downstairs and run them a bath, won't you?" </p><p>Aaron nods, grabbing Gil's arms. He pulls him up and to his feet, holding him there as he sways. Endicott pushes Malcolm forward, and Malcolm fits himself up to Gil's side, trying to support him the best he can.</p><p>"Once you're clean, we'll see about getting you some food. Sound good? Good.”</p><p>After what’s happened, Malcolm isn’t sure he’ll ever want to eat again. But Gil needs water, and he needs food. He’s had less than Malcolm...Malcolm’s already been selfish enough. He won’t misbehave and get Gil punished, too. <em> Again.</em></p><p>So he’s obedient. He doesn’t speak again, allowing Aaron to lead them away. </p><p>He glances over his shoulder just as they're turning a corner, and Endicott winks at him. He looks just as disgustingly smug as he had pinning Malcolm against the wall at his house, molesting him with his mother just upstairs.</p><p>His mother. He misses his mother so much. He misses Ainsley. He wants to go <em> home. </em> To go back when a touch and a kiss were the worst things Nicholas had done, to when Malcolm hadn't gotten both of them taken. It suddenly overwhelms him, fills him with a horrid, cold, sad emptiness, and it <em> hurts, </em> so much he gasps for breath. Gil’s head jerks up, his eyes flickering open, and his fingers gently brush against where they are by his hip.</p><p>“What’s…?”</p><p>"Mouths shut," Aaron says, holding up the remote to their collars, and with a grunt Gil goes quiet. He's breathing harder than he should be, and when Malcolm places a hand flat over his heart he can feel it beating wildly under his palm.</p><p>Aaron leads them down a flight of stairs, and the air becomes colder. Malcolm knows they're underground, but instead of just a simple basement there's another entire floor of rooms and halls down here, decorations, furniture. Aaron opens one door towards the end and gestures them inside.</p><p>It's a bathroom, with a large tub that Aaron plugs the drain of, turning on the water. Malcolm is wary as he watches the water start to rise. Endicott had said a bath, had said it would be to clean...but he can’t help but fear this will be used to torture them further. What if it’s ice cold? What if Aaron decides to hold their heads under the surface? </p><p>"Strip," Aaron orders, holding his hand out, and, slowly, they obey, giving him the lingerie. Malcolm covers himself out of instinct, embarrassed despite everything that’s happened in the face of another stranger, but Gil refuses to do the same, pretending he’s not as bothered by it all as it really is. </p><p>"Good boys. Doing well, following orders."</p><p>Gil shifts his weight, awkwardly, debates speaking for a moment, and then at last gestures vaguely at the toilet he's beside. "I have to…"</p><p>Aaron scoffs. "Are you asking, whore?"</p><p>Gil sets his jaw. "Yeah."</p><p>“Asking for <em> what?</em>”</p><p>“...The…” He takes a breath and huffs it out. “<em> Toilet. </em> I need the toilet. <em> Please. </em> Can I?”</p><p>Aaron looks pleased. He still kicks the lid closed. "'fraid I can't make decisions for you. Mr. Endicott is who you'll have to ask.”</p><p>Gil scowls at the very mention of the man. “He’s not <em> here.</em>”</p><p>“Then the answer’s pretty clear, isn’t it? You'll wait.”</p><p>Grimacing in discomfort, in humiliation, Gil looks away and says nothing else. Malcolm touches his hand, their fingers brushing together, but he doesn't dare try and hold it. Aaron still notices, looking them both over, too slowly, as the tub fills behind them.</p><p>"He told me we'd have company for the weekend," he says. "You're not what I was expecting. A cop—sorry, an <em> ex-</em>cop—and the Surgeon's little boy. Imagine that. And you're in <em> love. </em> Isn't that sweet? Are you still, after what happened? I saw...pretty nice show."</p><p>"Bastard," Gil mutters, still with his eyes down, and Aaron smirks. He gets closer, right up in front of Gil, and grabs his chin. </p><p>"I'm going to take my time with you," he says, tilting Gil's head from side to side, inspecting him. "I always get to play with them...and you're going to be fun. I've just got a feeling."</p><p>Gil breathes in deep through his nose and doesn’t react. Aaron bores of him quickly, thankfully, humming in disappointment and then reaching back to turn off the water. </p><p>"Soap," he points to the caddy suctioned to the wall. "Wash up. <em> Well. </em>Or I'll wash you myself, and I won't be gentle. I'll be back in ten minutes."</p><p>Malcolm is surprised that they're being left alone until the lock on the door clicks, and he understands they have no chance to escape. It isn’t something he didn’t expect, but yet another hopeless dead end, especially after tonight, makes his chest ache, throat burning with tears. He turns around with a sigh, reaching in to feel the temperature and relieved, nearly happy, with what he finds. "It's warm...it's so warm…"</p><p>He's suddenly eager to step in, and he reaches out to help Gil do the same.</p><p>Gil hesitates, groaning as he takes Malcolm's hand. He needs relief, has for a while, but it's not yet bad enough he dares to try and sneak it. That can <em> only </em>end badly. And despite how hard it is not to just relax as he sinks down in the warmth, he keeps it in, refusing to dirty the water for Malcolm. </p><p>It's tinted red even before Malcolm sits down, and when darker red flakes off from between Malcolm's legs, Malcolm sniffles, wiping his nose as his breathing stutters.</p><p>Gil knows the blood is likely from the others, but he feels like it was from him. It <em> could </em> be from him. </p><p>It's probably from him, because he <em> raped </em> Malcolm. Nothing can ever make that better. This unrelenting headache pounding away is nothing less than what he deserves…</p><p>Taking a deep breath, Malcolm finally moves. He takes one of the washcloths beside them, lathers it with soap, and starts to scrub at himself. When Gil doesn't do the same, staring blankly, eyelids drooping, Malcolm reaches out to help.</p><p>Gil flinches. Malcolm nearly pulls back.</p><p>Just the drugs, right? It has to be the drugs. Gil has to know it wasn't his fault…</p><p>"Is it...is it okay if I…?"</p><p>"Malcolm…" Gil mumbles, and Malcolm has the irresistible urge to hug him, to comfort him like Gil always does for him. He pulls him forward, cupping the back of Gil's head and guiding him to lean, to rest his forehead against Malcolm's shoulder. Gil lets out a tiny, helpless sound, one Malcolm's never heard before, and Malcolm's heart breaks.</p><p>"It's okay," he says. "Let me, okay?"</p><p>Gil couldn't fight if he wanted to. His eyes are already closed, and he dozes as Malcolm gently runs the washcloth over his bruised body. It feels…familiar, in some way. It feels like things are alright. It feels like he's being taken care of, and that hasn't happened in a very long time. He doesn't like to be so weak, but right now, still suffering under the drug's effects, there's nothing he can do.</p><p>Malcolm kisses Gil's temple, feeling the shudder that shakes Gil's body the moment he dips the washcloth down under the water to wipe away the blood on Gil's legs.</p><p>"Sorry," he murmurs, being careful as he can, and then cleans himself, wipes away his own. The water is cloudy and a sickening dark red by now, and when Malcolm accidentally wipes too hard somewhere sore, letting out a gasp of pain, Gil's breath trembles audibly. </p><p>"I'm sorry…" Gil finally says. "B-Bright...Bright...I'm so <em> sorry…"</em></p><p>Then he's crying softly against Malcolm's shoulder, and Malcolm squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around him.</p><p>"Ssh. Please. Please, Gil. I know. I love you...I love you. It's okay…I don't blame you, Gil...it's not your fault…I'm sorry, too…"</p><p>"I...I <em>raped</em> you...I made you...I made you <em> say </em>things, I…" </p><p>"You didn't make me say anything," Malcolm assures him. "That was me, Gil. I chose to do that. And you were hurt, too, Gil. I would have rather had you than any of them, and I know you didn't want to. You didn't hurt like they did. It felt...much better than them. And you didn't make it happen in the first place. That was them. That was <em> Endicott</em>." </p><p>“I...I didn’t want to…”</p><p>“I<em> know. </em> I promise you I know, okay?” He takes a breath, closing his eyes. "We'll be okay. You told me that. Tonight didn't change that. I love you. We're going to find a way out. Maybe here, Gil. We just need to get to a phone. We won't ever have to go back. We won't have to do that again. We can go home…"</p><p>"Yeah." Gil nods, but Malcolm doesn't know if he believes it. Malcolm doesn't know if he himself believes it, either. It’s so goddamned hard, when he knows that whether they find a way out or not, it won’t be before they’re hurt again. But he hopes, he prays, that it can be before Endicott can inflict irreversible damage.</p><p>"Just...please, Gil. I can't...I can't do this without you. Don't shut me out. Okay? I love you so much. I don't blame you. None of this is your fault."</p><p>Gil doesn't reply, but his arms come around Malcolm, holding him tight, and for a few minutes, they're okay. It feels like they're home. They'll get out of the bathtub, get under the covers, and cuddle to sleep. They won’t be touched again, not by anyone but each other. They’ll be <em> safe. </em> </p><p>Then the door slams open. Both of them jerk awake, back into the hell of this reality, shrinking down as Aaron enters the bathroom, holding two towels and, predictably, no new clothing. </p><p>"How <em> cute,</em>” the man coos, and Gil quickly pulls himself away, terrified of having his affection for his boy used against him again--again, and again, and <em> again</em>. “All cozied up, hmm? Are we clean now?”</p><p>Malcolm nods. Gil finds his hand under the sudsy, bloody cover of the water and squeezes it, the only comfort he can provide. </p><p>“Good! Come on now, get out.”</p><p>For a moment, they don’t move. It’s not really in an attempt to be disobedient, and more because they’re afraid of what waits for them when they do.</p><p>“If you don’t get out,” Aaron says, very calmly, taking it to be a final decision rather than hesitation, “I'm going to turn on your collars. Not sure what'll happen to you, in a bath, but I do love experiments. Science was my favorite class.”</p><p>“No sir," Malcolm quickly says, and then slowly stands. Gil grips the edge of the tub, struggling to do the same, and as Aaron tosses the towels at them, Malcolm only just catches them before they fall into the water. They're so much softer than what Vic would rub over him...</p><p>"Dry off.” And he watches them, doesn’t step back when they finally step out onto the rug, too close for either of their comforts. His gaze is <em> too </em>fixed on Malcolm, and Gil automatically slides a little to the left in an attempt to shield him. Aaron’s eyes travel down Gil’s body instead, then, and he tilts his head, the slightest smirk on his lips.</p><p>“Really not that bad at all,” he murmurs, almost to himself, and then claps his hands. “Come here, little boy.”</p><p>Malcolm grimaces, brushing Gil’s arm with his own as he obeys. Aaron gestures to the sink counter, and says, “Bend over.”</p><p>Malcolm's breath catches, his stomach dropping. No, no, no...not again, not again, please... "W-what?"</p><p>Aaron doesn't ask again. Instead he simply grabs the back of Malcolm's neck and slams him down against the marble, kicking his ankles apart and pressing up close to him.</p><p>"<em>Don't!</em>" Malcolm gasps, and as Gil swears and starts to advance on him, Aaron holds out the remote in his other hand, freezing both of them.</p><p>"Tell me right now if you want me to hurt him," he says, right into Malcolm's ear. “I’ll shove him right back in there.”</p><p>"Please don't," Malcolm begs. "Please, please, please...I'll be good…just…"</p><p>"Then <em> hold still." </em> </p><p>Malcolm squeezes his eyes shut, but he obeys. He’s scared, he can't take anymore, it hurts so much…he doesn't <em> want </em>to…</p><p>But Aaron doesn’t do what he expects. Instead the man takes another washcloth, wetting it in the sink, and then uses it to wipe between Malcolm's cheeks. It makes Malcolm gasp, makes him shiver and squirm, but it’s—better, isn’t it? It could have been worse. It could always be worse.</p><p>It's going to get worse.</p><p>“Turn the sink on,” Aaron tells him. “Use the toothbrush. Wash your whore mouth out.”</p><p>He doesn’t know why it still <em> hurts </em>to be called what he knows he is. He obeys, striping toothpaste across the bristles and brushing while Aaron continues, and then he drops it and gasps, grabbing onto the counter as Aaron pushes a finger up inside him, lubricated with something but cold and stinging.</p><p>"Stop! It hurts, please…wh...what are you…?"</p><p>Aaron twists it uncaringly. It must be some kind of antiseptic but it feels like rubbing alcohol, makes tears start running down his face. </p><p>"Mr. Endicott has standards. My job here is to make sure you meet them.”</p><p>"<em>Standards</em>," Gil mutters, and Aaron makes direct eye-contact with him as he shoves the remaining length of his finger up into Malcolm. Malcolm wails and grabs at the counter, unable to breathe in as stars cloud his vision.</p><p>"What was that?" Aaron asks, and Gil shakes his head, lowering it down to his chest. </p><p>"Good boy." He wiggles his finger, and Malcolm whines, pleading, until finally Aaron says, “Good enough,” and pulls it out. He grabs Malcolm’s chin, squeezing his cheeks until he opens his mouth, and then hums his approval and pushes him towards the hall, gesturing for Gil to come forward next.</p><p>"Your turn. Let’s go.”</p><p>For a moment as he steps out into the hall, listening to Gil gasp his discomfort as he's touched, Malcolm considers escape. If not, then at least finding a phone, calling the police, getting them <em> help</em>. They just need help. Just a <em> chance </em>to get out of here. They passed so many rooms, so many open and closed doors. There had to be something in one of them, right? If not a phone, a weapon. He could incapacitate Aaron with a blow, strike him with something heavy, perhaps the vase in the hall…</p><p>His hands are free. His legs are free. He’s naked, but that doesn’t matter. He’d run down the street like this if it meant getting the hell out of here. After everything that’s happened, dignity is worthless.</p><p>Gil <em> whines, </em>and Malcolm tenses. Aaron is distracted, when he looks, and he takes a breath, choosing which door he's going to run for.</p><p>He doesn't know what gives it away, or when Aaron noticed him. Maybe he went a little too far out of sight, or made a noise he wasn't aware of, but suddenly his collar is going off again, and he's screaming, and it <em> doesn't stop </em> until the pain drops him to the floor. </p><p>Vaguely, he hears Gil's voice, but can't make out what he's saying. A few seconds pass in which he can only gasp for air. He then feels hands on him, dragging him back up, but it takes a bit longer for things to really come back, before he can force his legs to move under him. </p><p>"You're a <em> stupid </em> little whore, aren't you?" Aaron is asking, slapping him across the face, and it hurts, yet successfully brings him back a little more. "Stand. <em> Stand!" </em> </p><p>"I wasn't...I wasn't gonna…" he mumbles, frightened of the consequences if his motives are known, and Aaron shoves him towards Gil, nearly knocks them both to the ground.</p><p>"Got you," Gil whispers, catching him, rubbing his arms. "You're okay."</p><p>“Where were you going to go, huh? Where were you going to run?”</p><p>“I <em> wasn’t,</em>” Malcolm says, and this time Aaron strikes Gil, clips him over his ear with his fist. Gil groans, pressing his palm to his temple, and tries to remember the headache is his punishment, however unbearable it’s become.</p><p>"Shut your mouth. Walk," Aaron orders them. "Don’t think I won’t be telling Mr. Endicott about this. Go. That way. <em> Move!"</em></p><p>They obey, supporting each other as they struggle to walk straight, to walk as fast as Aaron is insisting. Malcolm isn't sure how much more either of them can take without rest...or, really, even with it. And the air in the house is <em> cold</em>...it dries the leftover moisture on his skin, makes him shiver when his hair drips water down his back. He wants to go back to the bath...it'd been so warm, so quiet, just the two of them. He nuzzles against Gil's shoulder, and he fears it will have been their only reprieve for as long as they're here.</p><p>And then they reach a room with a dining table in it. Endicott is sitting at the head, in front of several plates of bread and fruit that they can smell as soon as they enter. Another well-dressed man stands at the wall, either a guard or a worker, looking at them only out of the corners of his eyes.</p><p>"Hello boys," Endicott murmurs, looking them over. "You're looking much better. Well...one of you. Come. Sit."</p><p>Too stunned by this all to move, Aaron has to push them to get them to walk. He leads Gil to sit in the chair at the corner closest to Endicott, forcing him down, and then as Malcolm moves to sit in the one beside him, Endicott reaches out, grasping Malcolm's wrist.</p><p>"Come here, pretty boy." He pats his leg and says, "Your seat is right here."</p><p>"No," Malcolm says, as if he has a choice, and Endicott laughs. All he has to <em> do </em>is laugh, and Malcolm feels a cold tingle of dread in his stomach, not wanting to know all the threats Endicott can go through with to hurt them both if he doesn't.</p><p>He grits his teeth, forcing himself forward, and Endicott smiles far too widely. "Look at you," he murmurs, eyes on Malcolm's lower half, and Malcolm covers himself again. Endicott finally looks up at his face and says, "Don't play shy, now...don't forget I saw you working for <em> hours. </em> Come here."</p><p>He grabs Malcolm's hips, turns him around, tugs him back, and sits him down to straddle his thigh.</p><p>Malcolm groans. He's far too sore to be sitting, especially somewhere so uncomfortable. He shifts, trying to make it hurt less, and Endicott wraps his arms around him, kissing his shoulder.</p><p>"I can't wait to dirty you up again myself," Endicott says, running his fingers along Malcolm's belly, and Gil clenches his fists. He's going to kill this man with his bare hands…</p><p>"Gil...you look upset." Endicott takes a drink from a wine glass on the table while he keeps touching about Malcolm's body and Malcolm keeps squirming, grimacing. "What's wrong, hmm?"</p><p>"You <em> sold </em>us," Gil says. It's all that he finds will come out in his current state of mind.</p><p>Endicott smiles, setting the glass down. He looks straight at Gil, never blinking, and Gil glares back.</p><p>"Cass," Endicott says eventually, looking to the man nearly forgotten in his silent corner. "Bring a bottle of my finest champagne, would you? It's a special occasion."</p><p>Cass obeys quietly. He leaves into a side room, then returns with a bottle, setting it on the table before them before returning to the wall.</p><p>"Thank you, my good man," Endicott murmurs. Malcolm looks at Gil, and then finds his eyes drifting down to the food. It smells so good...it's not anything he deserves, but he's <em> so </em> hungry…his stomach growls, and Endicott chuckles, rubbing his palm across it.</p><p>Gil shifts his weight, bouncing his leg under the table. He looks at the food, takes a breath, and rubs at his face. </p><p>"Are you hungry too, Gil?" Endicott asks. "Of course, I'll let you both eat...I'm just going to need your promises to behave."</p><p>Gil shakes his head. Aaron snickers behind him and says, "Didn't the whore have something else to plead for, too?"</p><p>Gil stills himself. He's <em> not </em> going to do that. He's not going to <em> beg </em> this monster, not for food and <em> not </em>to use the bathroom. He crosses his arms, and Endicott tsks. </p><p>"If you need something, you can speak up…you do look awfully on edge." He pets over Malcolm's chest, and then, when Gil still refuses to speak, he shrugs and turns his attention back to Malcolm.</p><p>"I'd like that taste, now, sweet boy," he murmurs, tilting Malcolm's head to the side, licking his lips while looking at Malcolm’s. “Come here…”</p><p>Malcolm knows he shouldn’t, but he still tries to turn away, still mumbles <em> no</em>. Endicott hums, kissing his cheek instead, sliding his hand down around Malcolm’s throat and forcing him back in place. </p><p>“Haven’t you had enough tongue and cock down your throat to be used to it by now?” he asks, almost sweetly; the words aren’t sickening to him. He doesn’t <em> care.</em> Psychopathic in a way Malcolm hadn’t detected at first. Maybe if he had--maybe he could have <em> stopped </em>this. “Don’t you know that your body’s no longer your own?”</p><p>He forces his lips over Malcolm’s, and Malcolm squeezes his eyes shut. </p><p>“It’s mine,” Endicott says. “Mine. Not yours. Not Gil’s. <em> Mine.</em>”</p><p>“Let him go.”</p><p>Endicott looks up at Gil, smirking, and kisses Malcolm again as he does. “Not yours,” he says again, speaking to Gil this time holding his gaze the entire time. “Though...I don’t believe he ever was."</p><p>He forces his tongue between Malcolm's lips, licking into his mouth, and Malcolm whines. He pushes on Endicott's arm, and then his chest, and Endicott finally pulls back, frowning.</p><p>"What's the matter, little one? I saw you give in <em> so </em>much easier tonight. You hardly fought at all towards the end. Why am I different? Hmm? Is it my breath?"</p><p>"You had us <em> trafficked, </em> " Malcolm says, and Endicott hums, sounding proud. He’s proud, he’s proud, he thinks it’s something to be <em> proud of.</em></p><p>"But—but you know we don't deserve this,” Malcolm continues, shakily, trying his hardest to focus as Endicott starts to rub at one of his nipples with a thumb. “<em>Nnn</em>—no one does. You were showing your power over the city, over people and things we didn't even consider, and—and we understand! We know now. You're in control, Nicholas. You are. We've learned. That's what you wanted us to do, isn't it? Learn?"</p><p>Endicott pecks his lips again. "You're adorable, Malcolm, you know that? You keep trying to do your job, even now. Isn't he precious, Gil? At least he's doing more than <em> you</em>, sitting there trying not to wet yourself…"</p><p>Gil feels his face go hot, and he stops moving again without a clue of when he'd started. Aaron snorts his amusement behind him.</p><p>"We've learned," Malcolm says, fingers brushing against Endicott's suit to bring the man's attention back to him. "You know we have. But you don't want us to die…you just wanted us to suffer. You wanted us to pay for trying to hurt you. And we <em> have, </em> Nicholas. You saw. We're—" He chokes. "We're never going to be who we were again. We're <em> sorry. </em>We've had enough."</p><p>Endicott looks at him, face unreadable, giving Malcolm<em> nothing. </em> And then he smiles. He grabs for the bottle of champagne, peeling off the foil on the top as he scans the table. "Where <em> is </em>that corkscrew...hmm…"</p><p>He places the bottle between his thighs, keeping it there with a light squeeze, and Malcolm is too busy trying to focus, to catch any expression that might be useful, that he doesn't immediately notice. Endicott pulls him closer, and then slips his hands under Malcolm’s arms and lifts him up.</p><p>Malcolm is confused. “What are you…?” he starts, and then suddenly he screams out as Endicott sits him down upon the bottle, the tip entering him, and holds his hips, starting to force him down. “Ah! <em> No! </em> Stop! Stop, stop!” </p><p>"Ssh," Endicott murmurs, nipping his ear. "We're celebrating, aren't we?"</p><p>“Stop!” Gil demands, trying to get to his feet, but Aaron strikes the back of his head and shoves him down again, holding him there with a hand on each shoulder. “Leave—<em>ugh</em>—leave him alone!”</p><p>“Oh, but he’s just so cute! Hmm...no, I don’t think I will.” He continues until Malcolm is sobbing and squirming and it’s buried in him to the bottle’s shoulder before he stops pushing.</p><p>"How does that feel?" he asks, over Malcolm’s desperate gulps for air. "Hmm? Are you full? You're taking it perfectly. Slid right in...so easily. Will my cock do the same?”</p><p>"Please!" Malcolm whines. "Get—get it out!”</p><p>"You're no fun, pet. Come now…I’m bigger than this. You’re going to have to get used to it. Because, dear boy, you need to learn that you haven't had enough until I say you have. And I say that you <em> haven't.</em>"</p><p>He shifts them both, and Malcolm yelps. Aside from the sheer agony Malcolm is afraid it's going to break inside him, or worse that the cork is going to pop. He doesn't know what that would do to him and he doesn't want to find out. He braces himself on Endicott’s thighs, trying to keep himself lifted, but his muscles are strained and aching, and he’s slowly starting to sink further down despite it being far too big to fit much more.</p><p>Endicott has mercy—or at least Malcolm thinks he does. He lifts Malcolm up, just enough for Malcolm to open his mouth and whisper a <em> thank you </em> before Endicott drops him back down. This time it goes further, Malcolm’s ass resting on Endicott’s legs now, and it hurts enough that his scream cracks and his vision goes grey in the corners.</p><p>"That's it...taking it so well. Relax."</p><p>“It—hurts—please—” he wails, grabbing out at the table for support, and Endicott coos at him, cups a hand against his throat and pulls his head back to kiss over his jaw.</p><p>"So pretty like this…shh. Oh, don't cry...you're so beautiful, Malcolm…you're so pretty…"</p><p>He kisses up to Malcolm’s mouth, grasping his hips again, continuing to fuck him down on it. He doesn’t seem to really be trying to gravelly injure Malcolm but he’s <em> not </em>being gentle, and it would hurt even without the past hours of abuse. It’s unbearable, and Malcolm whines and moans, muffled into his lips, hearing Gil's grunting as he tries and fails to get up, fighting against Aaron until a cry indicates he was shocked.</p><p>"He wishes it was him," Endicott whispers, too low for Gil to hear, only for Malcolm. "He loved the feeling of being in you, just like I will. Just like <em> everyone </em> does. This bottle's worth more just from being in this tight little pussy of yours. You're an object now, Malcolm. It's only right you're fucked with one."</p><p>"<em>Please," </em> Malcolm whines, and Endicott pushes it inside again as he struggles to breathe. The man is growing hard underneath him, but he's given no indication of urgency to take Malcolm here or to bed, and that scares him. Endicott clearly knows he has all the time he could ever want. If he isn't done in forty-eight hours, he could pay for more. He could buy them entirely if he so wanted, and they wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.</p><p>And he’s wrong. Malcolm knows he is. Gil hadn’t enjoyed it. He’d barely been able to finish at all...unlike Malcolm. Malcolm had begged for it, hadn’t he? He’d wanted it, despite knowing just how terrible it was that <em> this </em>was how it had to be between them, that their first time had to be forced in front of an audience. Despite being forced to come so many damn times he’d lost count over the night, despite knowing how tired and in pain Gil was. He’d still wanted it. </p><p><em> Whore. </em> He’s nothing but a whore. The Master was right, Vic was right, <em> Endicott </em>was right. It makes him sick. He wants to be sick.</p><p>Endicott reaches under him and flicks the bottle, vibrating it oddly inside of him, and Malcolm cries out, the pain thankfully distracting him, pulling him back from his thoughts despite knowing they’re just the reality he's going to have to accept.</p><p>"It <em> hurts!" </em> he moans, and Endicott ignores him, kissing him again, reaching around and taking Malcolm in his hand. The threat of being made to come <em> again, </em> the fact that anyone now has the ability to touch and hurt and violate him, that they will for the rest of his life, makes tears well up in Malcolm’s eyes, makes a sob escape from his lips as he pleads,</p><p>"Please—no—"</p><p>"Oh, I won't make you come,” Endicott murmurs, almost soothingly. “No, not yet. When you do, it'll be on my cock, screaming until your voice gives out from how <em> good </em> it is." He still strokes Malcolm, purring as he squirms and eventually starts to harden despite the pain. After everything that’s happened tonight, all the hands that have been on him, touching him, <em> pulling </em> him, with only making him come as a goal, he’s so fucking sore. Endicott’s hand doesn’t roughly jerk and pull like the others, just slides along his length, and he hates how grateful he is for the tenderness. </p><p>"I just want to see you...feel you,” Endicott says. “I must say...having you bare in my hand is far more satisfying than through your pants." </p><p>Malcolm scowls, but if he moves his arms to try and push him away, even though he knows it’ll be useless, he’ll slip further down again, and it already hurts too much to bear. So he lets it happen, and Endicott moves his hand idly, not fast enough to do anything but keep him wriggling.</p><p>Two entire days...all the time he wants…</p><p>"Are you paying attention, Gil?” Endicott asks. “My, the faces he makes...just look at them. Tell me, when you were making out against your car a week ago, did you think your first time would go like it did?"</p><p>"A week…" Malcolm mumbles, and Endicott squeezes him gently.</p><p>"Did you think it'd been longer? Shorter? How has it been, hmm? Are you having fun? Getting used to your new lives? I sure hope so…"</p><p>"Sick fuck!" Gil shouts, and Aaron shocks him again, keeps it on until he's doubled over and he can't scream anymore.</p><p>“You’re at the dinner table, Gil,” Endicott chastises. “Come now. Have some manners.” </p><p>Malcolm loses grip, too weak to hold himself up any longer, and leans forward as he slides down, starting to sob again as the pain becomes too much. It’s feeling much slicker than it did before, the same way the last few men had tonight before pulling out with Malcolm’s blood on them. “I’m b-bleeding...please...<em>please…</em>”</p><p>“Are you?” Endicott asks, not sounding much like he cares either way, and then he finally lifts Malcolm up and off, clicking his tongue. “You are...poor thing. Just a bit…”</p><p>Malcolm sucks in a breath of relief, clinging to Endicott as he removes the bottle from his lap, sets it on the table and settles Malcolm more comfortably. Malcolm's head lolls back onto Endicott’s shoulder as he tries to stop shaking, and Endicott licks up his neck, sucking on a spot just under his chin. It makes Malcolm’s breath catch, but he’s too thankful for the absence of pain to care right now.</p><p>"That's it…this is how I want you. Just like this." He pets through Malcolm's hair, catching his earlobe between his teeth and biting down. Malcolm doesn't like how easily it forces a moan from his mouth. Endicott thumbs over the head of his cock, and Malcolm grunts in frustration.</p><p>“Aaron!” Endicott says, at last releasing his cock, just as Malcolm was fearing he wouldn't be able to keep steady any longer. “Pop open that bottle, hmm? We’re all going to have a drink.”</p><p>Aaron steps away from Gil, and Gil finally raises his head. Endicott smiles at him, tilting his chin, and asks, “How’s the pain, on a scale of one to ten?”</p><p>Gil looks like he’s going to pass out, swaying even as he’s clutching at the table for support, and Malcolm can’t hold back a whimper. He knows it’s pointless yet he still tries to squirm out of Endicott’s arms. Endicott holds him tighter, crossing his arms over Malcolm’s chest, teasing a nipple and resting his chin on Malcolm’s shoulder. </p><p>“I have to say, Gil," Endicott says, as Aaron pops the champagne bottle and Malcolm flinches and gasps at the thought of it having happened inside of him. “I didn’t expect you to already look like this. So...hmm. Defeated.”</p><p>“I...was...drugged,” Gil says, breathless and strained. “I’m not…”</p><p>“So you were,” Endicott interrupts. “That’s good. I was hoping you’d be subdued, not quite broken. No, I’ll be taking that honor.”</p><p>“Fuck you.” It comes out before he can think, before he can consider the consequences for Malcolm, and his breath catches when Endicott pinches Malcolm’s nipple hard, making Malcolm cry out. </p><p>“<em>Manners</em>,” Endicott says, “or the next thing I shove up this pretty boy’s hole will be a knife.”</p><p>Gil lowers his head. Stupid, <em> stupid. </em> He needs to keep his mouth shut, no matter how much he hates the man. Play nice, until Malcolm’s not in his arms and vulnerable to being tortured, until Gil can get the upper-hand. He will. He knows he will. He <em> has </em> to. There’s no other option. “I—<em>don’t.</em>”</p><p>“What was that?”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he corrects. “<em>Please </em> don’t.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s much better.” He smiles and nods at Aaron, who’s poured three flutes, and takes one, stroking Malcolm’s neck again to get him to lift his chin and pressing it to his lips. </p><p>“Drink.” </p><p>“Don’t want—” Malcolm tries, but he makes the mistake of opening his mouth at all, and Endicott pours the liquid into it even as he chokes. </p><p>“Swallow what I give you, darling, or I’m going to make you drink it straight from the bottle, and I don’t think you want that.”</p><p>Malcolm winces as the alcohol stings his throat and cracked lips, but he swallows, and Endicott hums in approval. “Good boy. Very good boy. Gil, go ahead and take yours. And please, feel that it’s plastic. Any attempt to break it on either of us or use <em>anything </em>on this table as a weapon and I promise you Malcolm will suffer. I'll fuck him right over this table with that bottle until he passes out. Understood?”</p><p>Aaron sets the flute beside Gil, and Gil takes it, carefully. “Yeah…”</p><p>“Oh, no. Address me properly.” </p><p>“...Yes sir.”</p><p>Endicott sips from his own, and says, “No. No, I’d like something different. The two of you have called so many people that, haven’t you? It’s practically a whore’s entire vocabulary. Sir. Master. It's too...simple. I’d like you to call me <em> Patron. </em>So you never have a moment where you don’t remember who put you right where you are.”</p><p>Gil grits his teeth and says, “Yes, <em> Patron."</em></p><p>“Oh, you’re being <em> such </em>a good boy, Gil. Thank you. I promise, things are going to be so much easier if you keep behaving. Now...go on and drink that up for me.”</p><p>Gil looks down at it, watching the bubbles fizz at the top. He saw Aaron open it, pour it. If there was nothing in the glass...but he can’t be sure. And even without being laced, alcohol is going to make it far more difficult to do anything at all, to do the most important thing which is take what he has to to make sure Malcolm doesn’t.</p><p>Still, refusing is not in his or Malcolm’s best interest, and Endicott won’t stop <em> staring, </em> and so he takes a hesitant drink. </p><p>“That’s it. Don’t be shy. Isn’t it delicious? Twelve years aged...twenty-four hundred dollars. Pocket change, really, but I’m sure you’ve never tasted something so expensive in your life. Drink the rest. Really enjoy it.”</p><p>“<em>Why?</em>” he asks, and Endicott smiles, holding his flute to Malcolm’s mouth and tilting it. </p><p>“Because I’m going to fuck you, Gil,” he says, “and I want you both to loosen up just enough that I don’t end up killing you.”</p><p>Gil nearly drops the glass with the intensity of the shudder that runs through him. Malcolm coughs, trying to speak, and Endicott adjusts his head and keeps him drinking. </p><p>"You look surprised. Did you think I paid for you for other reasons? That was quite silly of you."</p><p>Malcolm coughs again, louder, as he finishes the drink, and finally manages to get out, "Please don't."</p><p>"Oh, you sweet little boy," Endicott murmurs. "You knew all along, didn't you? Hmm? Answer me. Didn't you know I was going to take you to bed?"</p><p>Malcolm wants to break down crying, his reply shaky and quiet and nothing more than a whimper. "<em>Yes.</em>"</p><p>Endicott coos at him. "Very good. You'll be first…but don't worry...I'll be <em> far </em> more gentle to you than the others were. I know how my friends can be with new toys...they just get so excited. I, however, am always in control. How about another drink?"</p><p>It’s so late in the night, and Malcolm is so tired. His stomach is empty, and as he already feels dizzy. He knows he can’t refuse, but being drunk around this man frightens him, unable to do a thing to help Gil…</p><p>Yet, he can’t seem to help him sober, either, can he? He’s shut up every time he tries to speak. His words, his skills, the only things he has, they all mean nothing here. Maybe...this is for the best. Drunk, he could probably handle it all better. Maybe things won’t matter so much. Maybe he can stop thinking about how the rest of his life is going to be spent like this, at Gil’s side, being tortured together, used against each other. </p><p>When Aaron pours another, and Endicott lifts it to his lips, Malcolm willingly drinks it down. It earns him a bout of praises, more kisses on his numb lips, and he lets his eyes shut.</p><p>“Don’t worry,” Endicott says. “You’ll be able to sleep soon. Finish your drink, Gil...and a second...and then you can eat.”</p><p>Gil doesn’t think twice, downing the champagne in one desperate gulp and holding it out for Aaron to refill. Aaron does, pours until the flute is entirely full this time, and Gil has a harder time drinking all of that. When it's gone, sitting nauseatingly heavy in his stomach, he reaches out, grabbing the nearest thing, some bread, while keeping his eyes trained on Endicott. When Endicott doesn’t stop him, when the man gestures for him to keep going, Gil is embarrassed by how fast he shoves the food down his throat. He’s never been so hungry, and the torture of being sat here in front of it for so long...instincts have taken over, and he can’t stop himself.</p><p>"Can…can I...?" Malcolm asks, and Endicott reaches for the closest plate of fruit, taking a piece between his fingers and holding it to Malcolm's lips.</p><p>"Of course, darling. Open up."</p><p>Malcolm obeys, unable to care how he eats, just that he finally does. Endicott feeds him, has him sip more champagne every few bites, kisses him and tells him he tastes even sweeter, and soon Malcolm can't really focus at all. The room is spinning, and he groans when Endicott offers him yet another drink.</p><p>"P...please...nnn...no...more…"</p><p>"Hush...drink...that's it…"</p><p>Gil can't stand the sight of Malcolm so limp and vulnerable in Endicott's lap. He can't eat anymore, his stomach aching in protest from how fast he downed so much, and now his <em> problem </em>has gotten far worse, and he can't sit still no matter how hard he tries. He's tipsy, and that's the only reason. Otherwise, he'd be in complete control for as long as he needed to be.</p><p>"Look at you," Endicott is murmuring, finding yet another place on Malcolm's neck that he hasn't yet marked to suck on, and for a horrible moment Malcolm <em> smiles, </em>just a little, before his eyes open and it fades.</p><p>"Gil…" he mumbles, and Gil's heart aches. His boy had thought it was him...perhaps being drunk is the best thing for both of them.</p><p>"Oh, I know. I know you want him. But I'm going to give you both what you <em> need</em>. I promise you. You just wait. My, little Malcolm...so pretty and helpless...hmm. What is Gil thinking, seeing this? Mmm...I'm going to have you first. Yes...pretty little boy..."</p><p>"I—" Gil says, and then stops himself. Endicott still looks up, interested, and Malcolm tries to do the same.</p><p>"What was that?"</p><p>Gil leans forward, shaking his head, and then finally moans, "Bathroom."</p><p>Endicott tilts his head to the side, as if he didn't hear.</p><p>"I...need the…bathroom," Gil forces out. He can't avoid it anymore. "<em>Please. </em> Let me. P—Patron."</p><p>"My, begging? You really have to go, don't you?" Endicott asks, and Gil rocks back. Endicott watches him, lips pursed in thought, and then he speaks again.</p><p>"I'm sure you can hold it. You're a big, tough man, aren't you? You wouldn't piss yourself like a little boy, would you? No, not <em> you </em> , Gil. You wouldn't let yourself. Not in front of <em> me</em>. In front of <em> him.</em>"</p><p>Malcolm whimpers softly. The way Gil straightens up and sets his jaw means he <em> believed </em> Endicott, means he thinks it's his fault for needing something so basic, that Malcolm thinks <em> less </em>of him for it. He wants to speak but he doesn't know what to say, and when he opens his mouth to try Endicott just wraps a hand around his throat and pulls him into another disgusting kiss.</p><p>"I've never had so much planned," Endicott says when he breaks them apart. "I'm so excited to share it all with you..." </p><p>Abruptly, Malcolm starts to have moments he can't remember as the alcohol fully hits him. He's at the table, and then he's not. He's in Endicott's lap across from Gil, and then he's limp in Endicott's arms, being carried somewhere.</p><p>He's too drunk to care. That's exactly what Endicott wanted, and he's turning into such a good boy, isn't he?</p><p>He just wants to sleep...he feels so bad, and he doesn't know where Gil is…</p><p>He's suddenly stood in front of a toilet, allowed to relieve himself, and then sat somewhere so very soft. He starts to fall back, but a hand cups the back of his neck and keeps him upright.</p><p>Gil. It feels like Gil.</p><p>He knows, miserably, that it's not.</p><p>"Relax," Endicott tells him, lowering him down, "but don't sleep. Not just yet. Soon, baby.”</p><p>Malcolm tries to obey. Endicott hovers over him on what he feels now is a bed, touches him, and asks, "Are you going to be good?"</p><p>Malcolm nods, and Endicott kisses him. </p><p>"Not good enough. Tell me with that pretty mouth, baby, come on."</p><p>"I…" Malcolm mumbles, struggling to force his voice to work. "Mmm…"</p><p>"You can do it…"</p><p>"Good," he gets out. "Gonna...mmm...be good."</p><p>"<em>Perfect.</em>" </p><p>Off to the side comes a shout of, "Get away from him!" and it makes Endicott chuckle, pulling Malcolm closer. </p><p>"And what are you going to do to make me, Gil? Concentrate on not making a mess on yourself, dear. I'll be with you shortly."</p><p>Malcolm can't even open his eyes. He's in the dark while Endicott kisses down his chest, his stomach, to his thighs, and he can't stop the moans that start escaping or the way his body starts responding to the attention. </p><p>"Stop!" Gil shouts again, and then he's muffled into grunting.</p><p>"Thank you, Aaron," Endicott says. "Keep your hand right there. I'm <em> quite </em> sick of his voice."</p><p>He kisses back up to Malcolm's chest, sucking one of his nipples into his mouth, and Malcolm cries out.</p><p>"You're a work of art, Malcolm," Endicott says, puffing air over it and then doing the same to the other. "Truly. So sensitive...so responsive. Expressive. I'm going to enjoy being inside of you."</p><p>Malcolm whimpers as the man's hands travel over his body, fingers stopping to press against the scar on his side. </p><p>"This is where you nearly were killed...isn't it?" he asks, and Malcolm can't answer. "Such a <em> disgusting </em>little mark on an otherwise perfect body. Oh...seems you have some more over here...oh, but these are different...these are from yourself, aren't they? Malcolm...why would you ever tarnish this temple? You're more mentally unstable than I thought…"</p><p>"Let go," Malcolm sobs. He remembers the way <em> Vic </em> had touched over him the first time he'd taken Malcolm, making <em> fun </em> of his scars and telling him how ugly they were like he hadn't known that even before all this. "Please. <em> Stop</em>." </p><p>"Ssh. I can look past them. Your face is most important. Everything else is secondary. And my, is your face perfect. I can't wait to see it when you come for me."</p><p>"Please, I can't...hurts…"</p><p>"Oh, shh. I know. They really ran you down. But you can, because I'm going to feel so much better than they did." He reaches around, stroking a finger between Malcolm's cheeks. "I'll take <em> care </em> of this precious hole of yours. I'll make you feel <em> wonderful. </em>"</p><p>"<em>Stop—</em>" Malcolm whimpers, brokenly. "I can't...I <em> can't…</em>"</p><p>"You can. Shush. Spread these thighs, baby...let me…"</p><p>Malcolm groans, shaking his head, knowing well that he has no choice, especially not so drunk. Endicott pulls his legs apart with pitiful resistance, and Malcolm closes his eyes, starting to cry harder, and…</p><p>"<em>Fuck!"</em> Aaron suddenly screams, and the shot of adrenaline that goes through Malcolm wakes him enough he can focus, his eyes wide as he looks over to where Aaron is staggering back, clutching at his hand. He pulls the remote out of his pocket, and shocks Gil until Gil drops to the floor.</p><p>"Fucker bit me!" Aaron snarls, kicking Gil in the back as Endicott gets up off the bed. "Fucking <em> dog! </em>"</p><p>Gil grunts, and though Malcolm rolls over that's as far as he can get, unable to see him, so tired...</p><p>Aaron kicks Gil again, and Endicott holds his hand out to stop a third. Gil retches softly from the pain, trying not to curl into himself, and Endicott tsks as he looks down on him.</p><p>"Oh, <em> Gil</em>," Endicott murmurs when the coughing subsides, licking his lips, voice so frighteningly sensual and predatory that Gil’s heart skips a beat. </p><p>"If you wanted me to take you first...well, you could have simply <em> asked.</em>" </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Endicott make boy(s) vewy sad. Sowwy. (Only a little.)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note: very dark and intense and probably triggery chapter with a lot of physical and emotional abuse as well as the normal shit. And it's not porny like the others, it's mostly just torture. But you knew eventually I had to do it to 'em. (Gil.) (("It" being break him into a million pieces.))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The defiance in Gil's eyes as he glares makes Endicott nearly forget about Malcolm completely, and <em> that </em> is an endeavor all its own.</p><p>He shouldn't have been going for Malcolm first, he realizes. He'd been distracted by the boy's beauty, that soft skin and those big blue eyes, instead of focused on what's been his goal since the beginning.</p><p>He wants to break Gil. He wants to <em> shatter </em>him. He needs to. He’s rarely wanted anything else over the past months, ever since him and Malcolm had started, so stupidly, looking into him, trying to find a way to hurt him, his reputation. Perhaps they’d even thought they could send him to jail, take away the life he built, the money he had. </p><p>That had been their downfall. He’d given Malcolm more than enough warning. He’d practically bent the boy over in his own house, <em>would </em>have had Jessica not been just out of earshot. He’d told Malcolm exactly what would happen if he didn’t keep his whore mouth shut, and Malcolm had gone and told Gil anyway. It had, somehow, done nothing but encourage them.</p><p>Endicott found that interesting. He considered it a challenge, really. He had connections, and he had strings to pull. Quite easily, he’d planned exactly what would shut them up for good. Paid a good sum, more pocket change to him; he’d pay anything, though, to make sure it went exactly as he wanted it to.</p><p>“Two simple requests,” he’d said.</p><p>“With such a lovely donation, Mr. Endicott, I would never refuse. You’ve been my most trusted and loyal patron to date.”</p><p>“I like quality. You’ve never failed to deliver.” </p><p>“And I’m <em> delighted </em> to hear it. Now...your requests?”</p><p>“One, I’d like it to be filmed. Everything that you can. I want to see their undoing.”</p><p>“Well, of course. I have to say...these pictures...they both really are something. Especially...this one. Those lips...I can work with them.”</p><p>“Mmm. Dangerous thing, that mouth. He doesn’t know when to keep it closed.”</p><p>“Well, perhaps he just needs to open it for other reasons, hmm? Boys can’t speak very well with a cock down their throat.”</p><p>“Thankfully. He’s already said <em> far </em>too much. I think a new hobby will do him well.”</p><p>“I’ll see to it that he learns. And what, pray tell, is the second?”</p><p>“I’d like to take them for a weekend. Their first. I want to have them when they’re...hurting badly, but not yet broken. I’ll pay, of course. In fact, if you could <em> assure </em>they’re hurt...really make it as unpleasant as you can, more than you might have without my direction...I’d throw a little more in.”</p><p>“Mmm. Yes, I think that can be arranged just fine.”</p><p>"That's what I love to hear."</p><p>He’d been sent, not two days later, a video. A bit shaky, a tad pixelated, with meager lighting but delightfully crisp audio. He’d watched it until he could close his eyes and vividly picture every detail, hear every sound like it was playing again.</p><p>The two of them leaving the bar. Malcolm kissing Gil. Gil pushing him up against his car, caressing his face as they continued. Disgusting. Thinking they were untouchable. Thinking they had anything to celebrate. Thinking they were going to go home.</p><p>The most beautiful sound came from Malcolm. When three men approached them with methodical movements, experts in their careers, they hadn’t known what to do. One had grabbed a handful of Malcolm’s hair, jabbing a needle into his neck, and he’d cried out. </p><p>Gil hadn’t. He’d been stunned, hesitated for the two seconds they needed to advance on him, to grab and drug him even as he struggled, dragging their bodies into the van next to Gil’s car—so stupid, he hadn’t even known. The one filming climbed into the back, and gave Endicott a perfect shot of both of their unconscious faces. </p><p>He’d paused, right there, and touched himself to the sight, thinking about everything he was going to do to them. They looked so peaceful...their last taste of freedom, no chance to say goodbye to their old lives. </p><p>And now, they're here. They're <em> his. </em> Malcolm's indisposed, and Gil is on the floor at his feet. So visibly weak, wearing off from whatever he'd been given, looking so beautiful and <em> owned. </em></p><p>Perhaps not yet. There's things he needs to do first.</p><p>"No," Malcolm mumbles, reaching out with his trembling hand. "Have me. W-won't fight. I'll make it...s-so good, sir. <em> Patron. </em> Promise...please…" </p><p>“Bright, <em> no,</em>” Gil whispers, like he thinks only Malcolm might hear it, and Aaron kicks him again to quiet him while Endicott slides back to Malcolm’s side.</p><p>"Oh, pet…" he murmurs, rubbing his hip, his thigh, watching him flinch but otherwise stay so obediently still. "The way you both think you can save each other is adorable. What are you offering that I can't just take afterwards? Come now. As lovely as it is to hear what a perfect little harlot you're becoming, I'm afraid you just have no leverage."</p><p>"I <em> want it," </em> Malcolm insists, rolling his hips up as he spreads his legs, and Endicott can't avoid looking between them. Malcolm licks his lips, running a hand down to his belly. </p><p>"Nnh...<em>please</em>, Patron...ah...I'll come so pretty for you...I need you…"</p><p>"Stop," Gil pleads, on the verge of tears. "Christ, Bright, <em> stop… </em>"</p><p>"Good lord…maybe you <em> have </em> learned." Endicott looks down at Gil, where Aaron has shoved his foot against the small of his back to keep him from getting up as he tries, his fingers digging into the carpet. He looks desperate, <em> pathetic… </em></p><p>“You don’t want that, do you?” he asks. “No, you want me to take <em> you</em>. So <em> desperate </em>for my cock, aren’t you, Gil?”</p><p>Gil sounds like he gags, then spits out, "<em>No.” </em> </p><p>Endicott pretends as if this is all new information, as if he doesn’t know Gil would give his body, his life, for Malcolm’s in a heartbeat, and asks, “Then why are you begging me for it?” </p><p>Gil doesn’t respond. His eyes go up to the bed, trying to see Malcolm, perhaps thinking of how he can get them both out of this.</p><p>Endicott would like to make it perfectly clear that that won’t be happening.</p><p>“Aaron,” he says. “Let him up.”</p><p>Aaron takes a step back, leaning against the dresser with his arms crossed, and Gil scrambles to his feet. “Bright—?”</p><p>Malcolm groans out something incoherent, rolling onto his stomach and lifting his knees up under him. "C'mere...please…"</p><p>“Are you asking for Gil or me, baby?” Endicott asks, reaching out, but before he can touch the boy Gil is shoving himself between them, blocking his way.</p><p>Endicott smiles. He can’t wait to render Gil something so inconceivably <em> shattered </em>that he never dares do something so bold again. </p><p>"Malcolm really is something," he says, "isn't he? I can see the allure...the reason you're so blinded by him. But I have to say...you’re not an awful sight, yourself, once I've stripped away the armor.” And he reaches down, closing his hand around Gil, squeezing him.</p><p>Gil gasps, shoving Endicott and jerking away, clearing the path to Malcolm again; his instincts to keep himself protected are warring with the ones to save <em> Malcolm... </em>and Endicott can’t wait to find out which one wins.</p><p>He advances on Gil, and Gil backs up, just enough. “Aaron. Hold the boy down on the bed and keep him quiet, will you? No distractions. This is between me and Gil, now.”</p><p>“No! No, no, wait, <em> take me</em>—” Malcolm cries, fighting as Aaron comes forward to pin him down, but still his arm is wrenched behind him back. It’s pulled hard enough to make the threat of it being broken clear if he doesn’t stop moving, and then Aaron slides his other hand over his mouth. </p><p>Malcolm wails into it, and Gil’s chest is heaving even harder as he stands there, every muscle tensed, trying to decide what to do when there’s <em> nothing </em> and he knows it. He’s covered in sweat, and Endicott runs a hand up his slicked back before Gil swears and jumps away, pressing himself against the wall. Malcolm kicks out, the heel of his foot hitting Endicott’s hip, but it doesn’t hurt. He’s not sure anything <em> could </em> hurt him, in this moment, with Gil looking so much like a caged animal, frightened, backed into a <em> corner, </em>because of him.</p><p>“If you bite him, too,” Endicott says to Malcolm, “I’m going to have him break a finger. I’d relax if I were you.”</p><p>With the beautiful sounds of Malcolm’s struggling in the back, Endicott smirks at Gil, starting to undress.</p><p>“Come here,” he says.</p><p>“No,” Gil hisses, one hand flat against the wall behind him, the other held out as if he thinks that’s enough to stop what’s about to happen. “No. You stay the f-<em>fuck </em> away from me.”</p><p>Endicott hums. He tosses his tie onto the recliner in the corner, then unbuttons the top half of his shirt. “Come <em> here. </em> Now.”</p><p>Gil bares his teeth. “I said <em> no.” </em></p><p>Endicott never expected things to be easy. Quite honestly, he’d have been <em> exceptionally </em> disappointed if it was. Gil doesn’t seem to know that this, the fight, the <em> chase, </em> is the part he’s been looking forward to almost more than the sex itself. </p><p>“Aaron…I don’t think you’re holding our Malcolm <em> quite </em> tight enough.”</p><p>Aaron jerks on Malcolm’s arm, and Malcolm screams. Gil’s confrontational expression falls to something more afraid, more dejected, as he looks at him. Still not enough, but a start. </p><p>“Come to me, <em> boy. </em> Now.”</p><p>Gil’s eyes are dark, demoralized, but he's not yet broken. He steps forward, but Endicott knows it’s only to stop Malcolm’s pain. Endicott wants him to obey not because there’s no other choice, but because he wants to. He wants Gil to drop to his knees and <em> bow </em> to him because every instinct in his body <em> demands </em>him to, and he’ll be damned if he’s not going to get them there, be it weeks or months in the future. They have nothing but time.</p><p>He reaches out, takes Gil’s arm, pulls him closer, and says, “Kiss me.”</p><p>Gil sucks in air and immediately that anger is back, so deep and primal and <em> gorgeous. </em>He sneers, trying to jerk away, and Endicott grabs his other arm, squeezing both until he’s sure it’ll leave marks and Gil’s teeth are gritted to keep himself from reacting too noticeably to the pain.</p><p>This close, though, Endicott can see it. He’s weakened, <em> scared.  </em></p><p>“Kiss me,” he orders again. “Lean forward. Don’t be shy. Unlike you, I won’t bite.”</p><p>He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look so furious. Gil fumes quietly, looking him up and down in contempt, and Endicott finally yanks him forward, crushing him against his chest. </p><p>“Kiss me, <em> whore,</em>” he says, and when Gil still strains to get away, he barks out, “Aaron!”</p><p>Malcolm chokes out a wail, and Gil’s brows furrow as he looks over Endicott’s shoulder before finally, with a frustrated growl, he slams his mouth against Endicott’s. It’s <em> not </em>a kiss, more an attack, and Endicott staggers. He licks his lower lip, tasting blood, and laughs.</p><p>“You want to be rough, Gil?” he asks. “I can play rough.”</p><p>He doesn’t give Gil any chance to mull the words over before he kicks him as hard as he can manage between the legs. Gil’s breath leaves him in a pretty little cry, and though he tries to double over, Endicott holds him up.</p><p>“Did that feel good? Hmm? Is that what you wanted?”</p><p>Gil still hasn’t managed to take in any air, his eyes shut tight, mouth wide open, and Endicott takes the opportunity to kiss him. Gil doesn’t respond with more than a grunt, and Endicott finally drops him to the floor. </p><p>“Just remember,” he says, wiping blood off his chin, “I tried to be nice.” </p><p>Gil finally drags in half a breath, whimpering it right back out, and Endicott just doesn’t think he deserves to breathe yet. An easy fix. He kicks Gil in the stomach, hard enough to flip him onto his back, and watches him open and close his mouth, eyes wide but unfocused, before he curls over onto his other side.</p><p>Malcolm whines, shouting, and Endicott smiles at him. “What are you saying there, Malcolm?”</p><p>“Do you really want to know?” Aaron asks, and Endicott chuckles, shaking his head. </p><p>Gil wheezes, starting to cough, but he’s not going to move, not yet. Endicott has time, and he takes it, emptying his pockets aside from his bottle of lubricant, unbuckling his belt and pulling it out.</p><p>“No. But you look beautiful, little one. How are you feeling? Suppose not so relaxed anymore, hmm? I did try to help you...”</p><p>Malcolm sobs, kicking out again, but he quickly goes still again. He’s tired. He's injured. He's drunk, no matter how much he’s trying to fight it. Endicott had <em> so </em>been looking forward to slipping right inside that perfect little body while it was unable to move let alone fight...but there’s over forty hours left in their playtime. He can simply have Malcolm drink again.</p><p>Gil is more important right now. Right now, that’s who he needs to hurt the most. Malcolm can wait.</p><p>Gil coughs again, but he’s breathing easier now, and Endicott doesn’t like the sound of it. Gil pushes himself up on his knees, head lowered forward against the carpet, but he’s still trying to get up, and Endicott likes that even less. </p><p>He grasps his belt tightly, and then brings the buckle down against Gil's back. </p><p>Gil jerks, but he doesn't make a noise. Endicott hits him again, three times, again and again until the buckle breaks skin and Gil's arms give out under him, but he's so <em> deliciously </em>stubborn, keeping himself to quiet grunts and nothing more.</p><p>"So strong, Gil," Endicott says. He strikes again, and this time the metal slices into him, wrings an agonized gasp out of him and sends blood trickling down his side. "So <em> fucking </em> strong, aren't you?"</p><p>He lifts his foot, and steps down on Gil's back, shoving it into the wound.</p><p>Finally, Gil cries out. It's not loud, not near loud <em> enough, </em>but it's progress. </p><p>"Now we're getting somewhere!" Endicott says, and he twists his heel, digs it down, tears the skin open even more. Gil slams his fists against the floor, but he doesn't scream. He doesn't even <em> cry. </em> Malcolm is sobbing behind him, but not Gil. Not yet.</p><p>Physical pain isn't what's going to get to him. No, he needs something else.</p><p>"You know...if you don't want to kiss my mouth, I have another idea." He grabs Gil by his hair, drags him closer to the chair, sits, and shoves his boot in Gil's face. "These are expensive, and you've dirtied them. Clean it off."</p><p>"<em>Fuck you,</em>" Gil groans, and that makes Endicott laugh.</p><p>"I'm trying, Gil. You're making it far more difficult than it has to be. It can go so much faster if you just behave…"</p><p>"Fuck you!" </p><p>"<em>Lick</em>, or I'll make Malcolm do it. Your choice."</p><p>Gil looks afraid again, glancing over at Malcolm. It's beautiful, the way he cares so much for the boy…willing to subject himself to anything at all for him...if he can't yet be made to do it for any other reason, this will work.</p><p>"What's it going to be,<em> whore?" </em> </p><p>Gil squeezes his eyes shut. Endicott doesn't think he can actually lift himself up anymore, because every time he moves he stifles another cry. He can't escape this, and he can't save Malcolm.</p><p>Gil wets his lips, lifts his head, and kisses the tip of Endicott's boot.</p><p>Endicott shudders, his hand falling down to rub himself. "Fuck...do it again. Use your tongue. You got your blood on it, so <em> get it off.</em>"</p><p>Gil looks at Malcolm again, and Endicott notices the dark flush on his cheeks. He's humiliated...but not enough. Endicott pushes his shoe against Gil's mouth and shouts, "<em>Lick it, slut!"  </em></p><p>Reluctantly, Gil <em> obeys. </em>He starts to clean Endicott's shoe, grunting his displeasure. It's a beautiful sight. Endicott pushes his hand into his pants, starting to breathe heavily, and nods. "That's it...Christ, this is a good look for you…both of you on your knees for me…call me what I want to hear."</p><p>Gil grunts again. "<em>Patron</em>," he snarls.</p><p>"Good boy. Again. Tell me you're my whore."</p><p>"I'm <em> not—" </em></p><p>"Aaron, please—"</p><p>"Don't," Gil pleads quietly, and quickly licks again to show his compliance. It still takes a minute for him to try and obey. "I'm...ugh…your…"</p><p>"Hmm? I'm going to need you to speak up, Gil."</p><p>Gil squeezes his eyes shut, and grits out, "I'm...I-I'm...a…"</p><p>Endicott lifts Gil's chin up with the toe of his boot. "You're <em> what?</em>" </p><p>"Ah...a wh-whore."</p><p>It hurts him so damn much, Endicott can just<em> see </em> it. He's fighting so hard, but for Malcolm, he'd do anything. Endicott plans to take full advantage of that. "That's not what I asked you to say, Gil. Would you like to try again?"</p><p>It takes another moment, but just as Endicott's prepared to order Aaron again, Gil mumbles something, barely audible. </p><p>"What was that?</p><p>"I said—I said…" He groans in frustration, jerking his head back. "I'm...your whore. Patron."</p><p>"Oh, wow. That's pretty. Say it again."</p><p>Gil shifts around, letting a soft whimper escape, one hand disappearing between his legs as he shudders. "I c-can't...I need to—"</p><p>Endicott leans forward, grabbing Gil's hair again and yanking. "I didn't <em> fucking ask </em> what you needed, did I? No. You don't <em> need </em> to do anything except <em> fucking obey me!</em>" </p><p>Gil has tears in his eyes, of pain or embarrassment or both, and Endicott pulls harder. </p><p>"I'm—" He <em> whines, </em>just like a disobedient pup. It makes Endicott's cock twitch in his pants, makes him ache to bend Gil over right now, but he waits. It's not time, not yet. </p><p>"You're what?<em> Speak</em>, dog!"</p><p>Gil looks so thoroughly disgusted, and so horrified with himself as he finally chokes out, "Fuck—I'm your whore, Patron."</p><p>"Again! Loud enough little Malcolm can hear, please!" </p><p>He's confident that if he keeps this up, Gil will start to cry. He just wants to see one tear for now...maybe two. Malcolm moans as Aaron shifts on him, and Gil can't turn his head to look even as he tries.</p><p>"Speak," Endicott orders. "<em>Again." </em></p><p>"I'm your whore," Gil says, voice shaking. "Stop this…"</p><p>"Again!" </p><p>"I'm...your...whore."</p><p>"Yeah. Whose little <em> bitch </em> are you, hmm? Whose dirty little slut?"</p><p>Gil flinches. A tear finally slides from the corner of his eye, and Endicott wants to lick it away. "Whose, pet?"</p><p>"Y...yours, Patron." </p><p>"That's right. Such a pretty sound to hear. Good boy." He loosens his grip, petting Gil's hair. "Such a good little puppy, aren't you? Hmm? You just need a little encouragement. Dogs don't learn without treats…"</p><p>Gil opens his mouth, as if to speak, and then slowly closes it again. </p><p>"Oh, very good boy…you're doing so well. Come." He pulls, forcing Gil back towards his shoe. "Keep cleaning."</p><p>Gil doesn't hesitate. He probably is relieved for something else to do with that mouth. Endicott could give him other things...but he doesn't trust Gil not to bite. Not yet. For now, this will do fine.</p><p>Still...something's wrong. It looks good, <em> feels </em> good, but it's not enough. There's still something Endicott needs to get <em> rid </em>of. </p><p>Even with Gil's eyes closed now, Endicott can see there's still something in him that hasn't yet been reached. Malcolm is only the surface, his pride just below it.</p><p>He goes deeper.</p><p>"Your....wife's name was Jackie, wasn't it?" </p><p>Gil reels back. He stops playing nice, because it was only ever an act to begin with. He clearly hadn't expected Endicott to bring her up, and he scowls up at him and growls, "Don't you <em> dare—" </em></p><p>Endicott kicks him, <em> hard, </em> out of instinct. A whore shouldn't be making eye-contact with him, let alone <em> glaring </em>like that. It catches Gil under his chin and sends him sprawling, and Malcolm writhes as Endicott stands.</p><p>"Beautiful name," he murmurs, circling Gil as he gasps. "Truly. I've seen...only one picture of her. Long dark hair…perfect little nose."</p><p>Gil spits blood. He cups a hand to his mouth and coughs, and Endicott sees him checking for missing teeth. He's sure it loosened one or two, if nothing else. </p><p>And still, Gil is fucking glaring when he looks up. </p><p>A whore, yet only in words forced out of him under threat. He needs to be one in mind, too.</p><p>Endicott smiles at him. "Jackie died of cancer, didn't she? Untreatable. God, that must have been painful."</p><p>"Shuddup—" Gil mumbles, and spits again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smearing blood across his cheek. "Keep her name out—"</p><p>"<em>Jackie," </em>Endicott says, and he loves to see just how angry his new pet is getting again. "Oh, Jackie. The poor girl, married to you when your mind was unfaithful. You've loved Malcolm a very long time, haven't you? Did she know how you felt for him? She must have, the way you act around him. Did she hate you for it?"</p><p>"You shut your <em> fucking mouth—" </em></p><p>"Did she stay with you anyway? Out of sympathy, Gil? Or did the poor thing think she couldn't do better? I doubt she really loved you, Gil…" He pauses, because Gil lets out a furious sob, and then delivers the final blow. </p><p>"It doesn't matter now. Nothing does. Your whore wife is dead, and you just raped the only family you have left. He <em> hates you, </em>Gil, and she's gone. You're alone. How does that feel, huh? How does that—"</p><p>Gil lets out a shriek, lunging at the man, and Endicott laughs as he dives out of the chair, just barely avoiding a punch and sending Gil toppling off it, back to the floor. </p><p>"That's it, baby! Fight me! Get the rest of that anger out! That's what I want. Come on! How long did she suffer, Gil? How long did you hold her cold hand and cry afterwards? Was Malcolm there? How long did you wait after she died to jerk off to him? Just so desperate for any fuck you could get after you didn't have somewhere wet and warm to stick it in anymore? Malcolm's <em> good </em>for that, isn't he?"</p><p>"<em>I'll kill you!" </em> Gil screams, and this time when he tries to land a blow it glances off Endicott's cheek, staggers him and gives Gil the chance to tackle him, knocking them both to the floor.</p><p>It's <em> invigorating. </em>Endicott howls with laughter, even as Gil punches him twice more, scratching and clawing down his chest.</p><p>"You're mad! Why are you mad, baby? Huh? Why are you mad at me? Doesn’t  the way it hurts tell you how right I am?”</p><p>Gil swears and snarls, looking every bit the wild, untamed mutt he is, and Endicott rakes his nails against the belt’s gash. Gil flinches, distracted from the pain, and Endicott slams his head forward, against Gil's, knocking him back and nearly out judging by the way he suddenly slumps over him, groaning. </p><p>It's about time for their foreplay to stop. Endicott's a patient man, but he's wanted to destroy Gil from the moment he saw that jealous little mug of his, and this...this is how he's going to do it.</p><p>He fists Gil's hair, yanking his head up, and is delighted by the sight of blood running from his nose. He pulls Gil into a rough kiss, tasting blood and salty tears, and he bites Gil's lip until he feels his teeth sink in, drawing more blood and a shrill cry.</p><p>"I tried being gentle. You remember that, don't you? I'm out of patience now. Up you go, baby!" Endicott drags him up from the ground, slamming him down on the bed beside Malcolm. Gil kicks and struggles, just as much as Malcolm is, and while Aaron digs a knee into Malcolm's back to keep him in place, Endicott grabs Gil around the neck and squeezes.</p><p>"That's all you have? That's all the fight I'm going to get? You're a fucking disappointment. But we knew that. Or I did. Malcolm, did you know that? Oh, Gil...he definitely did." </p><p>Malcolm looks just as tortured as Gil, crying as if everything Endicott has done, he's done to Malcolm, too. It's beautiful. It's karma, for what they did, for what they <em> tried </em>to do. They should have known not to fuck with him. They'll never forget, now; he'll make sure of it. </p><p>He waits until Gil's face is turning purple and he's starting to pass out before releasing him, slapping him across the face before he's even had the chance to gasp and then shoving him onto his stomach.</p><p>Gil grabs at the blanket beneath him, bloody from his back, and suddenly he doesn't look angry or defiant. He looks <em> terrified, </em> fear twisting his face into something that makes Endicott groan as he squeezes lubricant into his hand and then strokes himself. He’s not going to bother stretching him. He’s surely had enough the past few hours...and Endicott doesn’t care either way.</p><p>“God—” Gil finally manages to choke out as Endicott forces his legs apart, “<em>Don't—</em>" </p><p>“Shut your whore mouth,” Endicott murmurs into his ear, shoving his face down against the bed to muffle him as he lines up. “Little pussy boy...I’m finally giving you what you fucking deserve.”</p><p>He snaps his hips forward, burying himself inside, and Gil finally shrieks in pain, the sound Endicott’s been wanting to hear all along. He lets Gil’s head up, just to hear it better. </p><p>"What was that? Did that hurt? That sounded beautiful...why don't you give me another?"</p><p>Gil momentarily doesn't make a sound, stunned to silence, but Endicott doesn’t give him time to adjust. He starts to fuck into him hard, and basks in the noises Gil begins letting out.</p><p>"What are you saying? Huh? Speak up, Gil!"</p><p>"No—" Gil sputters weakly. He doesn't sound so brave anymore. He sounds like he'd do anything at all Endicott wanted now, just to avoid this from going on, and he sounds like he knows that there's nothing else Endicott wants. "No—<em>stop—" </em></p><p>“<em>Stop? </em> I thought you could take anything,” Endicott says, laying his arm across Gil's back to keep him in place as he struggles, getting another scream from the way he's digging into the wounds. The way Gil still apparently thinks he has a chance at escape, that he <em> deserves </em>one, pisses Endicott off. He wants Gil broken under him, limp and subdued, and he'll do and say whatever he needs to to make it happen. </p><p>“You're so strong, Gil! Come on! Twenty years on the force and a dead wife and <em> I’m </em> what you can’t handle? Huh? <em> Huh? </em>I’m what you can’t fucking take?”</p><p>Malcolm sobs. Endicott grabs Gil’s hair, pulling his head up, and Gil chokes, gasping.</p><p>“You little bitch,” Endicott says, “you’re crying! Oh my god, that’s fucking <em> pathetic. </em> Look at this, Malcolm! Show him, Gil! Snot all over your fucking face like a little kid! I thought you were strong! You always wanted to be so strong for your boy! What are you doing, letting him see you like this? Huh? What the fuck are you doing? Man the fuck up, <em> Gil! </em>"</p><p>Pathetically, Gil <em> tries</em>. He shuts his mouth, reducing himself to whimpers, but Endicott won't have it. He digs into his back again, shoves himself in harder and faster, and then laughs as Gil starts to cry louder than before. He takes the pleasure he wants, and it feels good physically, but it’s the trauma and pain he’s so obviously inflicting that arouses him so much, and he moans into Gil’s ear, holding him steady as he doesn’t, not once, think of Gil’s safety or comfort. </p><p>“You feel so fucking good,” he breathes, biting Gil’s ear, his shoulder, yanking on his hair until he feels strands come loose and Gil shouts in pain. “Fuck! Gil, you’re taking my cock so well. Look at you. How's it feel? Good? Feels good, doesn't it? Slut. Fucking slut! You’re nothing but a fucking <em> whore </em>, Gil Arroyo!"</p><p>Gil squirms under him. He fists his hands into the blanket, still feebly trying to pull himself away, and then one hand moves up and reaches out. Endicott watches as Malcolm whimpers and extends his own arm, as Gil frantically takes hold of his hand and squeezes it in a grip so tight Malcolm's fingers turn red.</p><p>"You're both so fucking <em> precious," </em>he purrs, and tugs Gil closer to him, about to force them apart before he notices something on the sheets beneath Gil as Gil tries to bring his legs up. “Are you wet for me? Huh? You’re not hard…”</p><p>“Stop—my god, stop, <em> stop—</em>” Gil pleads, and then Endicott thrusts in particularly roughly, and Gil yelps, slamming his free hand down against the bed and then freezing still.</p><p>“Gil fucking Arroyo,” Endicott says, “are you—you’re <em> pissing </em> yourself. With my cock inside you! You <em> disgusting </em> little pussy of a man…oh my god. You nasty, filthy whore...you're not worth the air you breathe. Sissy little boy...fuck...that’s right, <em> cry </em>for me...go on, cry harder…”</p><p>Gil moans, deliciously miserable. He clutches at Malcolm's hand, and Malcolm sobs, choking on it as Aaron adjusts his grip on him. Endicott grabs their hands, digs his nails in, and though he knows it must hurt neither of them fucking <em> let go</em>. Instead, he has to twist one of Malcolm's fingers, and finally their grasp loosens enough Endicott can drag Gil away from the mess he made, wrapping his arms around him. Gil cries out, starts to beg again, and Endicott covers his mouth, grunting as he once again starts to thrust in at this better angle. </p><p>“I want you to remember this, Gil,” Endicott gasps. “I want you to remember this happened because of <em> you. </em> And I want you to remember how it feels when I’m fucking your boy the same way. You cocky whore. Made a fool out of me and now here you are. How <em> does </em> it feel, huh? Is this what you wanted? My cock splitting you open? Being fucked by the man who ended life as you had it? Huh? I <em> won, </em>Gil. You're my fucking prize. And it's what you wanted, isn’t it? I told you to stop. You could have stopped. But this is what you wanted! Isn’t it? Tell me! Tell me it’s what you wanted!”</p><p>He releases Gil’s mouth, but all Gil does is retch and cough and sob, choking on his own tears. </p><p>“Tell me, baby! Tell me! Or I’m going to tell Aaron to go ahead and break his arm. Is that what you want? Huh? After the night he’s had? You’re that selfish? You already got him here...couldn’t protect him, could you? You raped him! He fucking <em> hates you, </em>Gil! Might as well keep putting yourself first!”</p><p>“I wa—” Gil gasps, and Endicott pulls him closer.</p><p>“What? What was that?”</p><p>Gil cries, shaking against him, and Endicott would <em> never </em> have thought he’d get the pleasure of seeing Gil so absolutely wrecked, so completely destroyed, so fucking <em> his </em> . “Say it, you fucking bitch! <em> Say it!" </em></p><p>Malcolm <em> wails, </em> and Aaron presses down harder on his arm, and Gil gasps out, “I wan—I <em> want—</em>I wanted it!”</p><p>“Oh god,” Endicott moans, his rhythm turning into something erratic as he closes in on his orgasm. He licks up the side of Gil's tear-soaked face and says, “One more time—Gil, oh,<em> fuck</em>—tell me you want it!”</p><p>This time, Gil’s voice is barely a whisper, but the second the words leave his lips, the second Endicott hears, “<em>I want it,” </em> he comes, shoving himself as deep as he can get and biting down hard on Gil’s shoulder as he fills him.</p><p>He’s not sure what it is that makes Gil scream, but the sound is unlike anything he's ever heard. Gil clenches around Endicott, and Endicott groans, licking away the blood that wells up from the mark he’s made. </p><p>“Fuck, yeah...just like that. Squeeze it out of me, whore...that’s all you’re good for now.”</p><p>Gil’s body is trembling so violently that it reminds Endicott of Malcolm’s tremor, and Endicott looks over to meet Malcolm’s wide eyes. Just that, just a look, makes more tears spill down his red face, and Endicott smirks. </p><p>“I almost forgot you were there,” he pants. “Did you enjoy the show?”</p><p>Malcolm screams into Aaron's palm, hoarse and barely audible at all, and Endicott breathes in deep, enjoying the moment. </p><p>Then, as he recovers, he pulls out and shoves Gil away like the useless trash he is. </p><p>"That must have felt good, hmm, Malcolm? I mean...he raped you. To see me do the same to him must have thrilled you. You think so, Gil? Hmm? He thinks you deserved it, too, for failing him and <em> then </em>fucking him. Using him like nothing but a hole. Is that what you thought would happen, Malcolm? Did you fall for him thinking he’d use you as a whore for an audience? Do you think that’s what he expected, Gil?”</p><p>Gil says nothing. He <em> does </em>nothing. He just lays there in, facedown, the only movement his shivering and the only sound tiny gasps between silent sobs.</p><p>"Yeah. You know you deserved it. <em> Mutt. </em>That's good. You feel my come leaking out of your hole? Remember that feeling. Never forget it, Gil Arroyo." </p><p>He stands up, zipping his pants, taking his tie and belt from the chair. He wipes at the dried blood on the buckle with his thumb, absently, and then decides to leave it. "Of course...I'm going to do it again. But...ah, it's never better than the first time. Thank you, Gil, for making it so memorable."</p><p>He yawns, louder than he needs to. "You can let him go now, Aaron. Thank you."</p><p>Aaron grunts, breathing hard, and shoves Malcolm down onto the floor. Malcolm gasps and sobs, curling into himself, and Endicott snickers.</p><p>"Look at that. I broke both of you with one fuck. I didn't think it'd be so easy…but hell, you're both used to disappointing people, aren't you? Done it all your lives.”</p><p>Malcolm looks so...small. Endicott watches him squirm at his feet, and wants to take him, too, but he’s more worn out than he usually would be from the physicality it took to bring down Gil. He won’t be ready for a while.</p><p>He’d like Gil to really think on what happened, anyways. He’d like to come back to a different man. And though he thinks about locking Malcolm in a different room, he knows that it doesn’t matter. Whatever he says, however he tries to convince Gil that those things said weren’t true, Gil won’t believe him.</p><p>He strokes Gil down his back, running a finger over his hole, and hears his ragged choke, but he still doesn’t move. Endicott presses over him, mouth against his ear, and murmurs, "Imagine how disgusted she would be if she saw you like this...oh, Gil...you believe in God, don't you? Then...do you think she was watching?"</p><p>The sob that leaves Gil is something so broken that Endicott groans, kissing down his spine. </p><p>“Where's your God right now, hmm?"</p><p>"F-<em>fucker—</em>" Malcolm says, and Aaron kicks him. </p><p>"How about you, baby?" Endicott asks, standing over him. "Do you believe?"</p><p>Malcolm doesn't answer. He looks terrified up at the man, gasping, and Endicott thinks he's even more beautiful like this. </p><p>"I suppose that's a bit personal...maybe after I've made you come a few times, we can get a little closer. But...right now I'm a bit tired. Don't think I won't be back for you, but...take a nap in the meantime, hmm? You've earned it. Both of you. Maybe strip the bed first, though…clearly, one of my puppies still needs to be potty-trained."</p><p>He leaves, without another word, locking the door behind them. He knows well that he doesn't need to say anything else. </p><p>It's going to be perhaps the best weekend he's had in a <em> very </em>long time.</p><hr/><p>Malcolm is shaking so badly he can barely breathe, barely think, with no strength to even attempt to get up for a minute after the sound of the men's footsteps fade down the hall. He just needs to catch his breath...</p><p>Aaron had nearly suffocated him. He'd been shifting more and more watching Endicott hurt Gil before suddenly pinching Malcolm's nose closed, moaning when Malcolm started to violently squirm under him, rutting down again and again until he was satisfied, until he didn't need Malcolm to move anymore and Malcolm was permitted air. He'd never been able to quite get enough air back through his nose, dizzy and close to black out until finally he'd been released. </p><p>While he's recovering, clearing his vision, Gil doesn't move. He lies perfectly still on the bed. Malcolm can't even hear his awful, heartbreaking crying anymore. </p><p>He hears his own. Hysteric, frantic whimpering of Gil's name as he struggles to force his limbs to work. Gil could be bleeding out, he could be <em> dying... </em></p><p>After another minute, he's able to reach up, grab onto the bed, and drag himself up onto it.</p><p>"Gil…" Malcolm says, breathless. "Gil...p...<em>please</em>…"</p><p>Gil doesn't make a sound, face against the blanket. The only way Malcolm knows he's even still alive is the way he’s shaking like Malcolm’s never seen before.</p><p>"Gil…?” </p><p>He reaches out, and then stops himself, remembering the way Gil had flinched from him in the bath, like he hadn’t known it was Malcolm at all, or worse, <em> had. </em> Instead, he tries to get him to react with his voice. “Gil, I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I tried...please, <em> please </em>say something…”</p><p>Still, Gil doesn’t. His back is smeared with drying blood, but the gash isn’t bleeding anymore. What’s more concerning to Malcolm is the lines of red that are still wet down the backs of his legs, and he takes a deep breath, standing up. There’s a bathroom in the corner, and though he’s still wobbling on his feet he manages to cross the room. </p><p>As he goes, he searches the dresser, the desk. His finger is swollen and bruised and might be broken, sprained badly at best, and the pain is radiating up his arm as he opens and closes drawers, but he ignores it. His pain doesn't matter. Nothing matters except helping Gil.</p><p>They're all empty. The cabinets in the bathroom, too. Nothing to be used as first-aid, no weapons, no <em> phone.  </em></p><p>“Fuck…” he mumbles, and then finally takes the washcloth from beside the sink, wets it a bit, and returns to Gil’s side. </p><p>“Gil...I...I have to touch you. Okay? I need to stop the bleeding.”</p><p>He waits, giving Gil time to tell him not to. When Gil doesn’t, Malcolm, as carefully as he can, pushes the cloth up between Gil’s cheeks.</p><p>Gil<em> sobs. </em> His arm jerks out and he grabs onto the arm Malcolm's using to brace himself on the bed and squeezes, and though Malcolm doesn’t think he consciously means it to be it’s <em> painful, </em>and it makes him wince.</p><p>"Sorry...agh, I'm sorry...Gil...I'm sorry…you have to—mmm...okay, okay...it's okay…"</p><p>He has to reach up, prying Gil’s fingers off, and Gil finally lets go, curling into himself while Malcolm pulls the soiled comforter up, slides it out from under Gil, and tosses it to the floor. </p><p>“Oh, Gil...come here,” he pleads, trying to pull Gil up towards the pillows. The second his hands slip under Gil’s arms Gil gasps like he hadn’t known Malcolm was beside him, like it’s someone else dragging him back into more things he doesn’t want.</p><p>“Don’t, <em> please—</em>” he mumbles, and then he looks back at Malcolm’s terrified face and goes entirely limp. “What’s…”</p><p>“It’s me.” Malcolm cups Gil’s cheek, wiping tears away. “I’m here. He’s gone. He’s gone, it’s just me.” </p><p>Gil’s eyes flutter shut, and he breathes a little easier. Malcolm manages to drag him up just enough to settle them both against the pillows, covers them with the thin bed sheet, and pulls Gil as close as he can, wrapping his arm around him.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he says, kissing Gil’s temple and feeling his heart ache when even that makes Gil twitch, his breath hitching in fear. “I tried. I tried. He lied, Gil, he <em> lied. </em> You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t hurt me! He did! Oh god...I didn’t want him to hurt you...he just wouldn’t let me <em> go...</em>I tried to stop him...but I couldn’t. Gil, I’m so <em> sorry</em>...”</p><p>Gil doesn’t reply. Malcolm isn’t sure if he even heard. Eventually, his breathing steadies, and Malcolm knows he’s asleep.</p><p>That’s when he lets himself break down, when he weeps into Gil’s hair until he’s stifling coughs and heaves in his best attempt not to wake Gil back up. He takes Gil’s hands in his own, mindful of his finger, and clasps them at Gil’s middle, nuzzling into him.</p><p>In the corner of the room, something catches his bleary eyes, and he scowls, pulling the sheet up to their necks. </p><p>It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t doubt it’s been recording this entire time, and that it’s caught everything up until this point.</p><p>He wants to flip the camera, <em> Endicott, </em> and whoever the fuck else might watching off, but he can’t even bring himself to raise his arm. It’s so comfortable, so warm, against Gil’s chest, and he’s comforted by his presence, by the softness of the first real bed either of them have been in in a week. He doesn’t want it taken away yet. </p><p>He doesn’t want them to be punished anymore. He doesn’t want them to be hurt anymore. </p><p>He doesn’t fight sleep when he feels himself drifting off, fresh tears still wetting his face, and, despondently, defeated, he realizes he doesn’t quite want either of them to wake up again, either.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>